Genius
by adder574
Summary: Why does Dean hide his intelligence?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I have always thought that Dean was much smarter than the show sometimes portrays and it seems like he hides his intelligence. Why does he do that? There must be a reason. Here is my take on the reason why.

I would like to thank Soar for once again putting up with me and agreeing to beta read this story for me. I would, as always, like to thank Soar, Sinead-Conlan, and JuliaAurelia for their feedback and encouragment on this story.

Chapter 1

Dean rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. He reached over and turned up the heater to try and stave off the dampness of the pouring rain.

Despite how tired he was, and despite the dull, damp atmosphere of the evening, it could do nothing to dampen his spirits. He couldn't keep the smile off his face as his eyes shifted briefly from the road to his younger brother, who was sitting next to him. His eyes then lifted to his rear-view mirror and he could see his father's truck keeping pace behind them.

It wasn't perfect, but his family was together again, and Dean intended to enjoy every minute of it while it lasted.

"There's a motel just up around the corner," Sam's voice suddenly cut into Dean's thoughts. "I'm getting a little tired and cramped. It would be good to stretch my legs."

"You stretch them anymore and they'll reach Canada," Dean quipped.

"Shut up," Sam mumbled. He could actually go for a while longer, but he knew that Dean was tired, and he had learned a long time ago that Dean was much more likely to give in if he thought Sam needed something.

"Sounds good," Dean said. He was actually glad to pull over for a while. He pulled out his cell phone and dialled his father's number. He couldn't help but hold his breath for a minute when he heard it ring. He was expecting it to go straight to voice mail. He tried not to make his sigh of relief obvious when his father picked up.

--

The Chevy and the truck turned into the parking lot of the no name motel. John went to the manager's office to check them in as Sam and Dean got their bags out of the truck. Funds were limited and they could only afford to spring for one room, but John managed to get a roll away cot delivered to the room, though.

He lay on his own bed and watched in amusement as his boys argued over who got the second bed and who slept on the cot. Sam seemed to be wearing Dean down, until he made the mistake of pointing out that he was taller. Dean sneered and put a quick end to the argument by claiming big brother rights, while John tried to keep the amused smile off his face. Dean wasn't short, by any means, but it really irritated his eldest son that he was the shortest of all his family, and smaller than his younger brother. For as smart as Sammy was, John thought with a chuckle, he had never learnt that pointing that out was a mistake.

It struck him then just how much he had missed his sons as he watched them banter. When Dean had overrode him and insisted that they should stick together, he had almost caved right away. He wanted to be with his boys, but he had to keep them safe. He had been surprised when Dean had talked back to him, telling him that was crap, yet despite that, Dean was right, they were much stronger as a family. The vampires would have killed him if Dean had followed orders.

--

After eating, the three Winchester men sat around, each doing their own things. Dean was laying on the bed and flipping through channels on the TV, John was making some notes in his journal and Sam had taken out his computer and was looking for any sign of demonic activity. He had tried for over an hour and could find nothing.

Dean had tentatively broached the idea of the three of them going on a hunt until something on the demon came up. John and Sam both decided it sounded like a good idea, as they knew they had to keep occupied to keep from getting at each other's throats. Sam switched his focus and tried to find something for them to kill.

"I think I got something," he said after a while.

"What is it?" John asked as he put down his beer and joined his youngest. Dean laid down the book he'd been looking through after he'd exhausted the available TV channels, and joined his father and brother.

"It's not even far, couple of towns over. There's a school, York Town Hall," Sam said. "It seems that every time they get a new physics teacher, he or she meets with some kind of accident. There have been 38 different ones since 1967."

"That's like a new one every year," Dean pointed out.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "They all said they couldn't wait to get of there. All of them suffered some type of injury. There were 17 serious ones. There was a teacher who was blinded in an explosion, another one that lost a leg when sulphuric acid was spilt on him. Those are just a couple of things. Four others were killed and the rest claimed unexplainable things happened."

"Sounds like a spirit, or maybe it's a curse, kind of the like the defense against the dark art's position," Dean said.

Sam looked at him like he was crazy. "What the hell are you talking about, Dean?"

"You know..."

"Harry Potter," John finished.

"The last one that came out was great," Dean said.

"It was," John agreed.

_His father and brother had read Harry Potter, Sam thought in surprise. When had Dean last__read anything? _Sam couldn't remember his brother reading anything besides a magazine, and here was his father and brother discussing the finer points of the latest book and how the Order of the Phoenix planned to get rid of someone called Voldemort.

"If you two are done, can we get back to the task at hand," he said. He was a little jealous that he couldn't join in. He hadn't read Harry Potter, but he may have to pick up the book now, as he kind of wished he could join in the conversation. "Anyway, according to local legend, there was a physics teacher who was accused of making inappropriate advances on a student. He was fired and black listed and couldn't get a job anywhere else. He hung himself in the classroom, just before the truth was revealed. It was discovered that the girl in question had failed his class and offered to do anything for a passing grade. He turned her down and she got upset."

"All the classic signs of a disgruntled spirit," Dean said.

"Ya think?" Sam replied.

"Boys, enough," John said. "This one should be easy. We just find where the teacher's buried, salt and burn the bones and we should be good."

"That may be," Sam said, "But he was cremated."

"Then why is he still haunting the school?" John asked.

"There must be something else tying his spirit there," Sam replied. "There must be something that was really important to him still in that classroom."

"We need to get in there," John replied.

"One problem. It's a private school, and it's surrounded by a gate and security guards. There are probably really strict rules about who's allowed to come and go as well."

"Everybody has his price," John said. "We can probably bribe our way in, or find..."

"Dad," Dean said. "We can't afford two hotel rooms, we have no money for bribes. I could find a bar and go hustle, but the Impala needs gas and a tune up, and there's a rattle coming from your truck, so any money I get would be better spent on that. We could try to break in, but that's more trouble then we need. There's a much easier way to get in."

"What's that?" John asked.

"You said the last physics teacher quit, so they need a new one. A quick call to Jefferson and one of us could have a teacher's license. It would give us much more access to the whole campus." Dean said naming their contact who supplied fake IDs. Jefferson was a computer geek and came up with anything they needed.

"It would be hard," Sam said. "There's probably a ton of applicants, despite everything. Teaching at this school is probably a really big deal. The odds of one of us getting hired would be slim to none."

"We don't necessarily need to get hired on a permanent basis," John said coming up with an alternative. "One of us could just show up, saying we're a sub until a permanent replacement can be found."

"It's a good idea," Sam admitted. "Just one problem with that. We might have to teach a class, and none of us knows anything about physics. Don't you think that might alert them to something?"

"You're a brainiac," Dean said to his brother. "Think you could pull it off?"

"If it was English or History," Sam said. "Science was always my weak spot. I don't know a proton from an electron. Dad, what about you?"

"Mechanics and urban legends," John admitted. "I don't even know what they study in physics. Your..."

"Well, we could break into the town hall and look for plans to see if there's a weak spot in the perimeter," Sam said, interrupting his father.

"We still have another option," John said. "Dean, what about you?"

"Me?" Dean said in surprised. "I, um, I don't think it's a good idea," he finished uncomfortably.

Sam couldn't help the soft snicker that escaped him. "Dean, a teacher," he mumbled.

"He was good in science and math," John said.

_Crap, why did his dad have to remember that. _"There's got to be another way. I don't think... I mean, I'd give it away," Dean stammered.

"Dean you got..."

"A better idea," Dean cut his father off. "Not right now, but give me a minute to think of something."

"Dean..."

"Dad, no, I can't do it, okay," he said, a touch of desperation entering his voice.

"It's our best option," John said.

Sam looked back and forth between his father and brother with the distinct feeling that he had missed something again. "I could do some reading," Sam suggested half-heartedly. He didn't think it would do much good. He wouldn't understand a word of it.

"I still think Dean's our best bet," John insisted. "He..."

"Dropped out of high school when he was 17. How's he supposed to pretend to be a teacher?" Sam said. He was not trying to hurt his brother, he was trying to be practical.

John didn't miss the flicker of hurt that washed over the face of his eldest son. It disappeared as fast as it appeared. "I'm going to the bar to get us some cash. Alone," Dean said as he grabbed his jacket and the Impala's keys and stormed out of the room.

"Sam, why did you do that," John said with a touch of anger. "Why did you have to put your brother down like that?"

"I was just..."

"No," John cut him off. "You pretty much just told your brother that he wasn't smart enough to pull this off."

"None of us are," Sam pointed out.

"That's where you're wrong. Your brother can do this, Sam. He's the only one of us that could."

"Dad, I know Dean's not stupid, but he did..."

"Drop out. I know that, Sam, and you don't need to keep reminding him of that."

"You were all for it, dad. It allowed you to hunt that much more and..."

"I was most certainly not all for it," John said firmly. "Dropping out was entirely your brother's decision. I didn't want him to. I wasn't even there when he made the decision. He just simply stopped going, and no matter how much I ordered him to, he wouldn't go back."

"What's going on, dad? What aren't you telling me?" Sam asked.

"The problem was, Sam, it looked to be happening all over again, and Dean wasn't about to let that happen."

"Now I'm really confused. What the hell's going on, dad? You have to tell me."

John sighed and sank down onto the nearest bed "Do you remember when you were about 7, and Dean was 11?"

"Yeah," Sam said with a shudder. He really didn't like thinking about that time. He and Dean had been taken away from their father and sent to foster homes, _**separate**_ foster homes. "What does that have to do with Dean dropping out of school?" Sam inquired.

"Everything, Sam," John said with a tired sigh. "Have a seat. It's a really long story."

TBC

Do you want more? Please read and review and let me know if I should continue?


	2. Chapter 2

I would like to thank my beta reader Soar, JuliaAurelia, Sinead-Conlan, and PADavis for all their help and suggestion on this chapter.

Chapter 2

_November 2, 1983_

Annie Hooper walked up and down the rows of the preschool where she worked, checking the progress of her students as they worked on their current art project of drawing their favourite thing.

"I'm telling," a voice piped up behind her. Annie resisted the urge to sigh and turned around and headed for a table where two four year olds sat.

"Ms. Annie, Dean's not doing his work right," Jeff tattled.

"Am too," Dean insisted.

Annie looked over at Jeff's picture and saw that he was trying to draw a picture of a baseball. She looked over at Dean's picture and saw that he had drawn a picture of four people and a car. "Can I see your picture, Dean?" Annie asked.

"Sure. Did I do it wrong?" Dean asked, sounding a bit unsure of himself.

"No," Annie confirmed. "We can't say what each other's favourite thing is."

"See," Dean said in the best imitation of a sneer.

"But you drew five things. That's wrong," Jeff whined back.

"How do I pick?" Dean asked with a small pout.

"It's your family, Dean," Annie said. "A family counts as one thing."

Dean smiled. Jeff scowled. "What about the car? That's two things."

"Daddy calls the car his baby, just like what mommy calls me and Sammy," Dean said with a touch of confusion coloring his tone.

Annie knelt down so that she was at eye level with Dean and smiled. Her husband was like that with his motorcycle. "It's okay, Dean. If you want to include the car as part of your family, then you can."

Dean stuck his tongue out at Jeff.

"Ms. Annnniiieee," Jeff whined again. "Dean's being mean to me."

"Dean Winchester, we do not stick our tongues out at each other, you know this, and if I have to speak to you one more time about it, you'll get a time out."

"Sorry, Ms. Annie. I've done my picture. Can I go play in the sand?"

"No, it's not play time yet. Can you label your picture for me?" Annie asked, trying to keep Dean busy.

"Kay," Dean said agreeably

--

Later that day, when the children were in the gym, Annie was sitting at her desk going over Dean's work. He always finished first, and it was starting to cause a bit of a problem in that Dean would ask the other kids to play with him, and then get mad when they wouldn't. Marilyn Writt, Annie's business partner, was convinced that Dean had been suffering from attention deficit disorder, and had spoken to his mother about putting him on Ritalin. Annie actually disagreed. She felt that Dean didn't pay attention because he was bored, not because he couldn't concentrate.

Looking at his latest writing assignment confirmed this in Annie's mind. The students had been working on writing their names. Dean had written his first name and had then drawn a crude picture of a gun after it. When Annie had questioned the young boy, Dean had explained that it was a Winchester rifle, and that he didn't know how to spell his last name. Annie loved Dean's solution to his problem. Not many kids would have thought of it.

She reached over and picked up the phone and asked Dean's mother to come in a bit early. She wanted to run something by her.

--

"Mommy," the four year old blond bundle cried as he launched himself into his mother's arms.

"Hey Dean, buddy," Mary greeted him enthusiastically. She scooped up her little bundle of joy and pulled him into a big hug.

"Hi Mary, thanks for coming," Annie greeted the young mother. "I hope I didn't take you away from anything important."

"No, I was off today anyway. Just a second okay," she said and put Dean down and knelt down so that she was at eye level. "Dean, can you go and play with your friends? I need to speak to your teacher."

"Kay, mommy," Dean agreed affably.

Mary turned back to the teacher. "What did you want to see me about this time?" Mary said and tried to resist the urge to sigh. This wasn't the first time the school had called, although Mary was used to dealing with Marilyn.

Dean had started pre-school that fall. He would be starting school next September and Mary wanted him to get used to being around other children. The first couple of days had gone great. Dean would talk about how much he loved playing with the other kids and drawing pictures. He said he was having fun.

Then the phone calls started. Dean was causing trouble. He wouldn't sit still and do his work. He was disruptive. Mary was getting tired of it. What more could she do? She had spoken to her son about it, and Dean had promised to behave. The last time the woman had had the nerve to suggest that Dean had attention deficit disorder, and should be put on medication. Mary had almost hit her.

"What is it this time?" Mary said trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.

"I'd like to talk you about your son," Annie said as she led Mary over to her desk and invited her to have a seat.

"He's fine," Mary said coldly. "He does not have ADD."

"I don't think he does, either. The only time we have problems with Dean's behaviour is during our learning time," Annie explained.

"I'm not sure I'm following you. Do you think he has some type of learning disability?" Mary asked.

"Just the opposite, actually. I think he's very intelligent, and the reason he's acting out is because he's bored. He finishes his assignments quickly and he wants the other kids to play with him, and gets frustrated because they're not done, and can't. Dean's always finished first."

Mary couldn't help the smile that broke out on her face. She knew her boy was smart.

"Look at this," Annie said and handed her Dean's assignment sheet. "Look at how he wrote his last name."

"It looks like a gun," Mary said. "His father was a marine and he had an old marine buddy at the house. Dean must have heard them talking. John's friend was talking about Winchester rifles," Mary said a little defensively.

"It's okay. I would have been concerned if he had drawn himself shooting someone with it, but he drew it to represent his last name, because he didn't know how to spell it," Annie explained. "I think Dean's ready for school, and this just confirmed what I'm thinking. How many four year olds would use the logic of drawing a picture for their last name?"

"Dean doesn't turn five until the end of January," Mary explained. "He's not eligible to go until next year."

"Have you thought of having him tested for early admission?"

That surprised Mary. "I didn't think we could."

"I personally think that Dean needs to skip kindergarten and go into grade one. It would probably give him the challenge he needs. I think he'd be as bored in kindergarten as he is here. You should think about it." Annie gave Mary some brochures on the testing process.

"Thank you," Mary said. "I'll speak to my husband about it tonight."

"No problem. For what it's worth, I think you have a really special boy."

--

_Present_

"So, Dean's preschool teacher said he should start school early?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," John confirmed. "Your mother told me all about it when I got home. We never really did get to do anything with it, though," John said. "You know what happened."

"Yeah," Sam said before his dad could get sad. "But wouldn't it have gotten noticed when we started school?"

"It did," John confirmed and he looked ashamed.

"What happened, dad?"

--

_1984 - Blue Earth, Minnesota_

John Winchester stood in front of the big, brick building, and felt his heart clench in his chest as he looked down at the small, blond boy who was clinging tightly to his arm. He was a little nervous about his eldest starting school. His mind was focused on one of the last conversations that he'd had with his wife.

It had been such a happy day. After John had finished at the shop, he had met his wife and they had gone to McDonald's and celebrated Sammy's six month birthday, and Mary told John all about what Dean's teacher had said. They had made the decision that they would have Dean tested over the Christmas break, and hope that he could start school that January.

They had one brief disagreement. John had been reluctant to let Dean skip a grade. He had no doubts that Dean would be able to handle the work, but he wasn't sure his son was ready socially. Dean hadn't had much of a chance to interact with the other kids, and John didn't want to put his son in a position he wasn't ready for.

Mary felt that Dean's intellectual development was more important. She felt that Dean would be worse off if he was bored.

John pointed out that school was a lot more than just learning, and that kids that stood out were made fun of, and John didn't want his son going through that.

They hadn't made any firm decisions because they both agreed to see what the results of the tests would be.

Shaking himself out of his memories, John looked down at his young son and squeezed his hand. "Ready?"

"I wanna go home, daddy," was the response he received.

Kneeling down so that he could look his son in the face, John pulled him into a hug. "You have to go to school, Dean," John said. "You really liked pre-school with Ms. Annie, remember?"

"I 'member, daddy. But who's going to read to Sammy? He don't like to sleep with no story."

"Pastor Jim promised he'd read him a story and you can read to him tonight, okay sport?"

"'Kay, daddy. Sammy likes Pastor Jim."

John smiled. That was Dean's way of saying he liked Pastor Jim. "Come on, let's go meet your teacher."

Dean followed his father into the scary building and down the hall to a classroom. Dean felt a bit of his anxiety ease when he looked around. There was a sandbox and a water tub, and blocks and toy cars. This place looked fun.

"Hello," they heard a voice call behind them.

John turned around and saw a pleasant looking woman walking toward them. "Hi," he answered. "I'm John Murphy and this is my boy, Dean." That was their cover story. John was pretending to be Pastor Jim's brother.

"Hi Dean. I'm Emily Mitchell. I'll be your teacher. "

Dean shrunk back behind his father's leg.

"He's a little shy," John explained.

Emily smiled at the young boy. "It's okay, Dean, we're going to have lots of fun. I'll show you your cubby and you can say goo..."

"See ya later," John interrupted. "Dean, you go with Ms. Mitchell and put your coat away, and then I'll come and we'll say see you later. I'll be right here when you get back. I promise, buddy."

Dean kept looking back over his shoulder at his father as he followed Emily to his cubby and put his bag in it. The teacher looked at John and she could clearly see that the boy's father wanted to have a word with her.

"Dean, can you take your things out of your backpack while I talk to your father and then I'll bring him to you."

"'Kay," Dean said and unzipped his bag.

Emily walked back over to John.

"Sorry about that," John replied. "It's just that Dean's mom..." he trailed off, trying to collect his emotions. "Dean's mom passed away last year and he doesn't like the word goodbye, so that's why we say 'see ya later.'"

"I'm so sorry," Emily said sincerely. "Thank you for telling me. I'll certainly keep that in mind."

"He also won't talk about her, so it's best that it's not mentioned," John replied.

Emily wasn't sure she agreed with that, but it wasn't her place to disagree, she had to comply with his father's wishes. "He'll be in good hands, Mr. Murphy."

John thanked the teacher and walked over to where Dean was putting crayons and pencils into his little cubby. John knelt down beside him once again.

"Okay, buddy. Daddy will be back at 3:00. You remember what time that is?"

Dean nodded. "The little hand is pointing at the three and the big on is at 12. Is that right, daddy?"

"You got it," he said with a grin. Dean had picked up telling time very easily. "It's 9:00am now. How many hours is that?"

"6, daddy," Dean answered.

"Right on the first try, kiddo," John said and reached out and ruffled Dean's hair like the proud father he was. "Now, remember what we talked about. What's your name?"

"Dean Murphy," he said robotically.

"Right, and remember when you're writing your name, don't draw the rifle after it." It had become Dean's signature. He had since learned to spell Winchester, but he liked drawing the picture after his name, since his mommy had said that it was very smart.

"I promise, daddy. Do I gotta stay here?"

"Yes son, but I'm sure you're going to have a great time," John said. "Can I have a hug?"

Dean jumped into his father's arms. "See ya, buddy."

"See ya, daddy," Dean said as he watched his father walk out the door.

--

Things were fine for about a week, and then the calls started coming, saying the same thing as before. Dean was disrupting the class, he wouldn't sit still. John was called to the school and he wondered if it was taught in teacher's college that if a child was disruptive, the first thing they were supposed to suggest was ADD.

John put his foot down and refused to consider that. He didn't want to mention what Dean's old teacher had said because he didn't want anything tying him to Lawrence. He asked her to check Dean's work first.

That was when he got a call and was once again asked if he would consider letting them put Dean up to the first grade.

John said no to that as well, again saying that he didn't think that Dean was ready socially. He didn't want the school's attention on them.

"Dean," John addressed his son one night when he was putting him to bed. "You're getting to be a big boy. Can we have a serious talk?"

"Was I bad, daddy?" Dean asked, his lower lip quivering.

"No buddy, no," John said and scooped Dean up into his arms. "You're a really good boy, Dean. You look after Sammy and help Pastor Jim."

"I help eat all his cookies, daddy," Dean said with a giggle.

"You didn't save any for me?" John asked with a pout that was half real and that made Dean laugh harder. The pastor made the best peanut butter cookies, although he loved hearing Dean laugh. It was such a rare sound these days.

"Pastor Jim said cookies were the last thing you needed," Dean said helpfully.

"He did, did he? I'll be sure to thank him for that. Any way Dean, I need you do to something for daddy."

"What is it?" Dean said, eager to please his father.

"At school, you know how your work is really easy? I need you to pretend that it's hard. Ask your teacher questions about it, okay?"

"Why daddy?" Dean asked in confusion.

"Because I need you to be like the other kids. Can you do that for me?"

"Yup," Dean agreed. "I love you, daddy," Dean said and hugged his father. Dean liked to tell his father that because it made him smile, and he liked making daddy smile again. Daddy didn't smile much anymore.

John swallowed the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn't believe what he was asking his baby boy to do. "I love you too, baby," John said.

"DAADDDYYY," Dean said clearly exasperated. "I'm a big boy."

John laughed. "That you are, son," John replied as he pulled his boy into a big hug.

--

_Present_

"You told your son to play dumb?" Sam said in disbelief.

"No," John said defensively. "I just asked him not to stand out."

"How could you do that?" Sam was not about to let his father off the hook.

"I didn't have a choice, Sam."

"You always have a choice, dad, you usually just make the wrong one," Sam snapped.

"Can we not fight?" John asked, sounding tired.

"Why did you do it?" Sam asked. He was not about to let this go.

"Remember when you boys were in Lawrence?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "What about it?"

"You talked to my old friend Mike. I'm guessing he said that he called social services," John said.

"Yeah, he did," Sam confirmed.

"Did you know I was about to lose you boys? I didn't cope well with your mom's death. I regret it, but I sort of crawled into a bottle and let Mike and Kathy take care of you two, but I got so tired of their lectures that I moved out. Kathy didn't think I was fit to look after you boys and a case worker showed up shortly afterward. I thank my lucky stars that I wasn't drunk that day, or I would have lost you boys on the spot. She said she was going to be doing follow up visits. She didn't like me and she was determined to find a way to take you boys from me. I couldn't let that happen. You two were the only thing keeping me sane. Missouri was at the apartment one day when the case worker showed up for a final visit. I was told that she was going to make a recommendation about whether or not I was capable of looking after you two. Missouri was able to read her and she told me that social worker was going to recommend that you be taken from me. I couldn't let that woman..." John paused, trying to keep the disgust out of his voice. "She decided I wasn't fit to look after you and she was apparently coming for you the next day. I packed a few clothes and a few toys, put you and your brother into the car and took off and never looked back. Missouri gave me Pastor Jim's name, and he gave us a home until I could get back on my feet."

"What does that have to do with you asking Dean to pretend he couldn't do his work?" Sam inquired in a curious tone. He wanted to know where his father was going with this.

"You have to understand, Sam, I didn't know what the situation was like in Lawrence. I can just imagine what happened when social services showed up at our apartment and we weren't there. I was…" John stopped abruptly as if he didn't want to admit his feelings.

Sam was not about to let him stop there. "What dad?" he insisted, his tone indicating that he was not about to take no for an answer.

"I was scared."

That brought Sam up short. His dad was a big, tough, former marine, a hunter. He was the strongest man Sam knew. He had seen his dad angry, sad, hurt and beaten to a bloody pulp, but Sam didn't think he had ever seen his dad afraid.

"Not even Vietnam scared me as much as when Missouri said they were coming for you and Dean. So when I got to Jim's, it was his idea to pretend that I was his brother. I didn't want anyone paying close attention to you boys for any reason, good or bad. Remember when I told you that all I saw was evil after your mother passed?" John asked.

Sam nodded.

"I didn't think that Dean's teacher was evil, but I didn't trust anyone, except Pastor Jim. I kept telling myself that if the teacher paid too much attention to Dean, that she would somehow connect him with Lawrence. I know the odds were against it, but it was a chance I wasn't willing to take. If I was found, I would have lost you boys. Your mother's death almost killed me. If I had lost you boys as well..." John couldn't finish.

He didn't have to. Sam knew what his father was thinking. His dad would have crawled into a bottle and never have come out.

"You and your brother most likely would have been separated. You would have been easy to place, as a lot of families wanted healthy babies. Dean was having problems, though. He had nightmares, and it was at least 4 months after your mother died before he started speaking again. I don't know if a foster family would have been willing to put up with that. He could have ended up in some hospital or group home. You were pretty much the only thing that was keeping him grounded. If he had been taken away from you, he would have been lost. That's why I did it, Sam. It's not something I'm proud of, but I was just so afraid."

This was something about his father that Sam had never heard before. Right now, his father looked so lost that Sam couldn't be mad at him.

"I'm guessing it worked?"

"Yeah, Dean's work was typical of any student," John confirmed. "A couple times, he couldn't hold back, but it happened rarely so that it could be considered a fluke."

"How come you didn't ask me to do the same?" Sam asked, although he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"You and Dean were four years apart. By the time you started school, our disappearance would have been a cold case, plus I never got a call from your teacher that you were disrupting the class. It wasn't anything to do with how smart you were," John added quickly. "It was just you and your brother had different personalities. When you were done with your work, you were content to sit still and either work ahead, or just re-check your work. You always wanted to make sure it was perfect," John said with a grin.

Sam grinned. That was true.

"You were both naturally curious about how things worked. You were content to ask a million questions. Dean, on the other hand, was much more hands on. He had actually taken apart a telephone once before a teacher caught him. He never meant to, but your brother just has a way of drawing attention to himself."

"He does, doesn't he," Sam agreed. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Does this have anything to do with the reason we were taken from you that time?" Sam asked with a shudder, as he always did when he thought about the time that he and Dean had spent in foster care.

"Yeah, kiddo. That's an even longer story."

"Dean's probably going to be gone for a while. We've got time," Sam insisted firmly.

John took a deep breath and recalled one of the worst times of his life.

TBC

Please read and review. It's want I live for


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

Thanks to Soar, JuliaAurelia, and Sinead-Conlan for all their help, and an extra thank you to Soar for the beta job.

AN: Special thank you to PADavis who let me use her skunk apes from her story Canaveral. If you haven't read it, I would highly recommend it.

"Are you sure you really want to know this, Sam?"

"Yeah," Sam said firmly. "You said that there were a couple of times when Dean really stood out. Does that have anything to do with us ending up in foster care?"

"Yeah, it does," John said with a touch of anger in his voice.

Sam misread it. "Don't you dare tell me you're blaming Dean," Sam growled.

"Never, Sammy. It wasn't Dean's fault. It was mine. I got sloppy," John admitted. "I know your brother blamed himself, though."

"What happened?" Sam insisted.

"Once of Dean's teacher's, Grace Albright, saw right through his act."

--

"Alright class," Grace Albright addressed her class of sixth grade students. "That's it for today. I'll see you all tomorrow, and Dean, I need to see you for a minute please."

11 year old Dean Winchester, or Dean Willman as he was known at this school, groaned as he halted his exit out of the classroom. He couldn't think of a thing that he had done wrong, there were no failed tests and none of his assignments were late. He just hoped that she wasn't going to keep him long, as he had to meet Sammy and walk him home. Sammy got upset if Dean wasn't there waiting for him.

"Yes, Mrs. Albright," Dean said politely and gave her his most charming smile.

"I didn't receive a reply from either of your parents to say whether or not they were coming to our awards ceremony."

Dean resisted the urge to groan out loud. It was coming up to the end of the term and instead of having a regular parent/teacher night, Grace liked to have an award ceremony to recognize all her students' hard work. She made sure that each student got an award, so no one felt left out. She had sent home letters to each parent and asked them to RSVP if they had planned to attend. So far, each of her students had one or both parents attending, except for the one standing in front of her.

Dean shrugged as if it was no big deal. "My dad has to work," he replied.

"What about your mother?" she inquired.

Grace watched her young student, and he suddenly appeared to have had the rug pulled out from under his feet. His smile disappeared and an air of sadness suddenly enveloped the young boy. Grace really wanted to smack herself as Dean's eyes misted up, and his gaze dropped to the floor.

As fast as it happened, Dean firmly settled his mask back in place and looked back at his teacher. He didn't answer.

"I'm sorry," Grace said sincerely.

"It happened a long time ago," he muttered.

"I don't usually tell students this, Dean, as I prefer it to be a surprise, but your history essay is getting an award tomorrow for creativity, and having the highest mark in the class."

Dean's smile reached his eyes and he flushed slightly at the comment. "Thanks," he said, pleased with his accomplishment. He had put a lot of work into that essay.

"You should ask your dad to reconsider."

"I will, Mrs. Albright," Dean said although he had no intentions of doing so. He would have loved to have his father there, but he was on a hunt and Dean knew for sure that even if his dad had been home, he still wouldn't have come. It was just him and Sammy. Speaking of which... "Is that all?"

"Yes Dean, you can go," she said.

Grace watched her newest student walk out the door and a short time later, she could see him through the window, escorting a little boy down the walkway by the hand.

Dean had joined her class about two months ago. He was a quiet kid who sat in the back of the class and didn't cause trouble, yet she was still curious about him. His work was average, Cs mainly, and the occasional B and an A in math where he appeared to excel. She had a feeling the boy was working far below his potential, though. There wasn't any concrete proof, it was just a gut feeling that came about after being a teacher for almost 20 years.

They had read The Outsiders by SE Hinton in English class, and Dean's observations on the relationships between the characters would have been something she would have expected from a high school student, yet the book report he had turned in had only earned a C. Any question she asked Dean in class, he almost always knew the answer to, no matter how tough the question or subject, yet on tests and written assignments that were graded, Dean didn't often get higher than a C. From what she could tell, his abilities in math were scarily good, and then there was the history essay that he had just turned in that Grace was giving him an award for.

They had been studying the colonies, and had been talking about Roanoke and the disappearance of the settlers, with only a single word, Croatoan, carved into a tree. Her students had discussed different theories for what had happened to the colonists, and Grace had smiled at Dean's theory that Croatoan was a demon.

Grace liked to try and make projects fun for her students, rather than just doing straight research. She had assigned an essay that would be marked on both facts and creativity. She wanted her students to research one of the strange happenings in history. It didn't have to strictly relate to American history, though. Then, she said for fun, she wanted her students to come up with a way to solve it. Their explanations didn't have to have any facts to support the conclusions, and would be graded on originality.

A week later, when her students handed in their assignments, Grace had spent the better part of two hours reading regurgitations of every urban legend there was on vampires, mummies, werewolves, and alien abductions. Then she read Dean's.

He had apparently used an unsolved mystery to solve an unsolved mystery. He had actually used a legend she had never heard of and had to really dig to find information on. He had picked something called the Devil's Hole Cave. In a small town in Arkansas called Self, that presumably could not be found on any maps, there was a large, unexplored cavern. One day, a man decided to go spelunking and climbed about 200 hundred feet down into the cave when he hard a strange hissing. He got out of there as quickly as he could. Several men had tried throwing inanimate objects down the well, and everything came back either damaged, or it disappeared altogether. No one else was brave enough to try and climb down, and rumors about what was there began to grow, everything from some undiscovered animal to the devil himself.

Dean had then taken another urban legend, Florida's version of big foot, called a Skunk Ape, who lived in caves and were rumored to be behind the disappearance of tourists. It was said that they ate them. Her young student had theorised that it was a skunk ape living in the cave in Arkansas. The only weakness in Dean's essay was that he didn't explain how a Skunk Ape from Florida ended up in an Arkansas cave system.

Still, Grace was impressed at the amount of research Dean must have done to find two unsolved mysteries that fit together almost seamlessly.

Grace decided that she would head to the office and look at Dean's file, so that she wouldn't make a mistake like she had earlier. Pulling the records, Grace discovered that Dean had been in 9 schools in 6 years, and she wondered if that was why his grades were so erratic. Schools differed from state to state. As she had suspected, his mother was deceased, and he lived with his father and younger brother, Samuel, who was a student in Mr. Kennison's second grade class. That must have been the little boy she had seen Dean with earlier. His father was a mechanic who worked in a local garage, and as luck would have it, her husband was good friend with the owner. She was going to give Inglett's Garage a call. Dean's essay was better than a lot of her husband's high school students could have done, and she hated the thought of no one being there to see him get his well deserved award.

--

_**Present**_

"They took us because you weren't there for a school ceremony?" Sam asked his father in disbelief.

"No," John replied. "Dean told me about the subject of his essay. Solving the legend of the Devil's Hole Cave was like the holy grail among hunters, that and the Morton Mansion," John said, naming one of the most haunted houses in America. "When Dean told me his theory about the cave, it sounded plausible, so I gave Dean the usual instructions and took off on the hunt."

"Did you get it?" Sam asked.

John grinned. "Yup, Dean's theory was right on the money. I have no idea how it ended up there, but the legend's been taken care of."

"What happened next?" Sam said trying to get back on topic.

"It was just my luck that Dean's teacher was best friends with the owner of the garage I had said I was working at. I had put on your school records that I was working in town at a local place called Inglett's Garage. I put my cell down so the garage wouldn't look for me if the school called. I picked that one because there was a garage in the next town called Ingman's Garage. If they called and found out that I didn't work at Inglett's, I could easily cover and say it was a simple mix up, but the truth was that I never worked at either place, Sam, the job was bogus."

"They called and tried to get a hold of you."

"Yeah, but the ruse worked. No, it was still another couple of weeks before CPS showed up, and Winchester luck reared its ugly head."

"Now I'm really confused."

"That essay convinced Dean's teacher that he was a lot smarter than he was letting on."

--

_**1990**_

Grace first tried calling John's cell phone. It went straight to voicemail as he was 100 feet underground at the time. She then had her husband call his friend.

"Willman, John Willman," Grace's husband Keith repeated into the phone to his best friend and golf partner, Brett Inglett.

"Nobody works for me by that name," Brett confirmed. "He actually might be an employee of Ingman's in the next town over, thought," Brett said, playing right into John's cover.

"Okay, might have been a simple mix up," Keith said. He told his wife what his friend had said, and neither of them knew anyone at the other garage, so they didn't feel comfortable calling over there.

"It's too bad Dean's father can't be there," Grace said. "I really wanted to talk to him."

"I'm guessing you want to tell him about Eden Academy?" her husband asked.

"Yeah," Grace said. "I think it could really help Dean develop his potential. I think he's bored in my classes."

Eden Academy was a small, private school for gifted children. It was an alternative school that allowed students to progress at their own pace. It had an excellent reputation and about 96 of its graduating students went on to Ivy League universities. It was an extremely exclusive school that only admitted its pupils on the recommendation of teachers, and a thorough testing process.

"You really think he has a chance at being accepted?" Keith asked his wife.

"I do," Grace said firmly.

--

Dean sat at his desk, brooding. He would never admit it, but he hated the fact that he was the only person here that didn't have someone watching him get an award. He was really proud of his essay, and even prouder that his father had used it for the basis of his latest hunt. If he was successful, it would make him a legend among other hunters, and Dean was proud that he had done the research on it.

"Hey Dean," a small voice greeted him. "Mrs. Albright said you're getting an award," the voice said in awe as if Dean were about to be named president.

Dean looked up in surprise. He'd know that voice anywhere. "Sammy, what are you doing here?"

"Your teacher said I could come watch."

Dean looked up and saw his teacher standing behind his brother. "I thought you might like some company," she said sincerely.

"Thanks," Dean said softly, suddenly excited at the thought of receiving his award.

The awards ceremony passed with Dean not only getting an award for his essay, but one for his work in math class as well. He appreciated the fact that his teacher had gotten Sam out of his own class. It was kind of nice have someone cheer for him. Dean thought his day was looking up until Mrs. Albright asked him to remain behind once again. She asked him to have his father get in touch with her, that there was something she needed to discuss with him.

His father was still going to be away for at least another week. Dean managed to make a few excuses to his teacher when she asked during the following week where his dad was, like he had forgotten to tell his father, that John was extremely busy at work and couldn't get time off, or he was sick. Then Grace took it upon herself to make contact with Dean's father. She called Ingman's Garage and got the same answer. They had never heard of John Willman.

She drove to the address listed on their files and found herself at run down motel that was located in a neighbourhood that most people avoided.

Not surprisingly, there was no answer when she knocked on the door, so she went to the motel office and inquired about the Willmans. She found out that the motel manager saw the two boys leave for school every morning, and the adult that had been with them had left two weeks ago and he hadn't been back since.

A bad feeling was starting to come over the teacher. The first thing she did was share her suspicions with her husband and the two of them contacted social services.

Social Services showed up at the motel the following day with a warrant and the cops. The motel manager opened up door to room 3 with his master key.

--

_**Present Day**_

"How'd you know about all that?" Sam wanted to know.

"At the court house, they called Dean's teacher to testify."

"I remember the day CPS came to the door," Sam said. "Dean threw himself in front of me. He tried to tell them you had gone to the store, but they found the shotgun and they, um, took us," Sam said with a shiver. He could still remember how scared he had been that day.

"Yeah," John said bitterly. "I got home a few hours later and almost had a heart attack when I couldn't find you boys."

--

_**1990**_

John Winchester was smiling when he pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the motel he and the boys were staying at. His son was a certified genius. He had killed the skunk apes in the Devil's Hole Cave and secured himself a place among the hunting elite. He didn't even care that he had turned out to be allergic to skunk ape fur, and had spent the last week sneezing. Afterwards, he'd run into an old friend in a bar and had been offered a paying job. He had accepted it and called the boys to let them know he would be another week. Now, he had a pocket full of cash and he was planning to take his boys out for the night. They were going to a real restaurant, not a fast food place. He would buy them new clothes for school, then get them each a treat, something they wanted, not something they needed.

"Sam, Dean, I'm home," he called when he entered the room. His smile disappeared instantly. Something was seriously wrong. He couldn't see his boys anywhere. There was a half eaten dinner on the table, and the shotgun was missing. Had something attacked them? Then he noticed the piece of paper on his table. It was a summons. Something much worse than the supernatural had his sons. They were in the custody of Child Protective Services.

He ran out of the room as fast as he could. He never remembered driving downtown, he just remembered arriving at his destination.

He ran in and pushed the four people ahead of him away from the counter.

"Give me my boys back. _**NOW!"**_ He demanded.

"Excuse me," the woman behind the counter said to John without even flinching. They were used to dealing with distraught parts. She motioned for the security guard. He didn't come right over, but he wasn't far from John's side.

"Where are my sons?" John said desperately.

"What's your name?"

"Willman, my boys are Dean and Sam."

The woman looked up his name in her computer. "Their case worker is Tammy Nickerson. Arnold here will show you to her office," the lady said with a nod toward the security guard. "Any funny business and you'll be arrested. Is that understood?"

"Just give me my boys," John repeated. Once they were back in his custody, nobody in this town would ever see or hear from them again.

John followed the security officer silently down the hall. He really couldn't afford to get arrested and chance his real identity being discovered. He was seated behind a desk and told that Tammy would be along soon. The only thing he could concentrate on was trying to get his beating heart under control.

"John Willman," a voice from behind him called.

He turned toward the woman. "You must be Tammy Nickerson. Where are Sam and Dean?" he was ready to beg, he wanted to see his boys so badly.

"They're at the hospital," she answered.

John's heartbeat sped up to about 300 beats a minute, along with his breathing. "Are they hurt? Are they okay?"

"We're making sure of that," Tammy said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" John said angrily. Then exactly what she had said dawned on him. "You think I hurt them," he said in disbelief. "I've never laid a hand on them."

"I'm waiting for a doctor's report," Tammy said, ignoring John.

"Which hospital?" John demanded.

"Why were they left alone in a motel room with a shot gun?" Tammy ignored his demand and responded with her own question.

"Which hospital?" John repeated.

"I'm not going to let you see them until we determine if you're a danger to them," Tammy said firmly.

John knew she was serious. "I was at work. I'm a single father, Dean looks after Sammy until I get home."

"Where do you work, and consider your answer carefully, Mr. Willman," Tammy cautioned. "We've been in contact with both Inglett's and Ingman's garages and neither of them have heard of you."

John knew he was busted. "It's been tough to find a job. I've just been doing odd jobs here and there," he tried to cover. His worry over his boys was making it hard to come up with a convincing lie.

"Can you provide me with some of the names? So I can check."

"Yeah," John replied. "Bobby Singer and Jim Murphy." They had been hunters for so long that even a strange phone call from someone they had never heard of wouldn't faze them.

Tammy picked up the phone and dialled them right there and then. It was unfortunate that they were both on hunts because it made John look like a liar.

"We'll come back to work in to moment. What about the shotgun?"

"Work is hard to come by," John replied in frustration. "We don't live in the best neighbourhood."

"So you're admitting you deliberately put your boys at risk," Tammy accused.

"No," John growled and ran his hands through his hair. He was digging himself in deeper. "It's all I can afford. There are other parents in that motel, are you planning to take their kids too? Sam and Dean know not to touch to the shotgun."

"The other parents aren't the issue. How do you explain the fact that you weren't around for the last two weeks?"

"I was looking for steady work. I was home in the evenings," John insisted.

"We have a witness who saw you leave two weeks ago and not come back once."

"Who?" John demanded even though he knew they wouldn't answer it.

"We're not going to tell you," Tammy confirmed. "Sam and Dean will go to our children's shelter for tonight. Tomorrow, there will be a preliminary hearing in the family court at 10 am, where a judge will decide if we return Sam and Dean to you, or if they be put into temporary placement until our investigation is complete."

"Please, they're all I have," John said and for the first time in years he was near tears.

"10 am," she said refusing to give in.

--

_**Present**_

"I got sloppy," John admitted. "I should never have taken that second hunt."

"Dad, it was just a series of circumstances that you couldn't control," Sam tried to reason.

"The next day, they ruled that you and Dean were to remain at the children's shelter until the investigation was complete. 48 hours later, they put you and your brother into foster care. As long as I live, Sam, I'll never forget the look on Dean's face when the judge assigned you to separate homes. You started yelling, and I was almost arrested because I almost decked someone when they tried to pull you two apart."

"So Dean blamed his essay for CPS finding us," Sam wondered.

John nodded silently.

"What the hell have you been telling him?" an angry voice suddenly demanded.

Sam and John looked up. They had been so busy talking that they never heard the door open, and there was a furious Dean standing in the doorway.

TBC

A/N: I decided to bring Dean back because I figured his time in foster care was his story to tell, that is if Sam and John can convince him to.

Please read and review.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Still Don't Own Them.

Thanks to Soar for the beta job and suggestions on this chapter, and again to Sinead-Conlan and JuliaAurelia for their feedback and encouragment.

The black '67 Chevy Impala pulled into the parking lot and came to a stop in the spot in front of room 4. Dean shut off the ignition and contemplated pulling right back out again, and he would have, if he'd had a place to go.

He had already tried going a local bar with every intention of getting drunk, hustling pool and maybe finding a good looking chick for the night.

Upon arrival, he got himself a PBR and scouted around for a pool table. He smiled at a couple of girls, and was encouraged when they smiled back. The lone pool table, at the back of the bar, was taken up by two college guys, who were bragging that they would take on all comers.

Dean had figured he had hit the jackpot. He wouldn't even have to try and hustle, it would be easy pickings, but when he barely managed to squeak out a victory against a guy that he could have beaten when he was 10, he realized that his head just wasn't in the game, and since his father had drilled it into him since he was four that if your head wasn't there, then the rest of you had no business being there either, so he had left his barely touched beer on the table, picked up his meager winnings and headed out the door.

He didn't want to go right back to the motel, so he drove around for a while, then went through the drive thru at the liquor store and got a six pack. He wished he could get totally, stinking drunk, because then maybe he could shut his mind off.

It kept going back to the conversation he'd had with his dad and Sam. He really wished that Sam had found a different job. Things had gone down hill since he'd located this stupid case. Not only were too many memories coming to the surface, but now he had more to try to bury. He'd never admit how much he was hurt by the fact that Sam didn't seem to think he'd be capable of passing himself off as a teacher. He couldn't explain why this was bothering him, as he couldn't really pull it off, but he knew what was really bothering him was that Sam thought he couldn't do it. He didn't know why this was coming as such as shock. There had been signs, his reaction to Dean's homemade EMF had spoken volumes. Too bad he didn't know it was that stupid EMF that had clinched his decision to drop out of high school.

Dropping out of high school was not something he was proud of, but he'd had to do it. Didn't Sam understand that? He couldn't risk it happening again.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore, he exited the car, grabbed the six pack out of the trunk, and headed into the room.

"...You started yelling, and I was almost arrested because I almost decked someone when they tried to pull you two apart."

"So Dean blamed his essay for CPS finding us?" Sam wondered.

Dean watched as his father nodded silently and he felt his anger grow. It was bad enough that Sam thought he was dumb, he didn't need him to know just how big a screw up he was too.

"What the hell are you telling him?" Dean blurted out before he could stop himself.

Sam and John stopped their conversation and looked up at him.

"Dean, dad was just setting me straight about a few things," Sam tried to explain.

Dean ignored his brother as he walked over to his bed. He slammed the six pack on the desk and threw the keys on the bed.

"Dean," John said, getting up and going over to his eldest son. "I'm just letting him know..."

"How much I screwed up. Why? He doesn't need to know that," Dean tried to sound angry, but there was no force behind the words. He sat down on the bed heavily and started to pull his boots off.

John saw right through his son's words to the wounded boy underneath. He had told Dean several times that he didn't blame him for what had happened, but he knew the words had never sunk in. He blamed himself for that. After the incident with the shtriga, John had made his eldest son feel that Sam almost getting hurt was Dean's fault. Ever since then, Dean had tried to shoulder the blame for anything that went wrong, whether it was his fault or not. It was just one of many things that John wished he could do all over again.

Putting his hand on his son's shoulder, John looked him right in the eye. "For the last time, Dean, it _**wasn't**_ your fault."

"But I didn't listen. You told me not to stand out and I did," Dean insisted.

John bit back a sigh of frustration.

"Dean, there's a lot I didn't know," Sam said coming over and sitting next to his brother.

Dean tried to push off his father's hand. He eyed the door. It had been a mistake to come back here.

"Forget it," John said firmly, stepping in front of Dean. "I let this go on far too long as it is. You have to stop blaming yourself for this, Dean."

"You warned me," Dean said.

"It was that essay that gave me my standing among other hunters. Do you know how proud of you I was back then? Seasoned hunters couldn't solve that mystery, but my _**eleven**_ year old son did," John said sincerely.

"But if it wasn't for that stupid essay, CPS would never have found us," Dean said with a shudder.

"You don't know that. The hotel manager knew I wasn't around. He could have just as easily called them."

"But he didn't, did he?" Dean argued. "It was _**my**_ teacher that did it because I wrote that damn thing."

"If I had been home instead on a hunt, I would have been there for the teacher's call," John tried to reason.

"But if I hadn't turned it in, she wouldn't have been trying to call," Dean shot back.

Sam was getting dizzy at the circular argument that was going nowhere. "Dean, there's a lot I don't remember," Sam spoke up. "Can you tell me the whole story?"

"Why?" Dean questioned. "It's ancient history. Why bring it up again?"

"Because I want to know," Sam insisted. "And you know me, dude, I'll just keep asking until you tell me."

"Alright fine," Dean huffed. "I didn't follow orders, CPS found us, took us and we were lucky we got back together. Happy?"

"No," Sam said with a frown. "The real story," Sam insisted.

"That was the..."

"Dean," John interrupted. "I want you to tell me the story too."

Dean looked at his father like he was crazy. "You were there. You know how badly I..."

"Dean Winchester, if you finish that thought, I'm going to put you over my knee. I don't care how old you are," John admonished. "I want you to tell your brother this part of the story, but what I want you to do is tell it as if you were someone there watching it. You can't put yourself down in any way."

Dean made the mistake of looking at his baby brother, who was flashing those damn puppy dog eyes at him.

"Alright," he said sharply.

--

_**1990**_

"Sammy," Dean said to his seven year old brother. "Dinner."

"Coming," the little boy said as he dropped his pencil where he was laying on the bed, working on something for school, and took his place at the table. "Skabettio's again?"

"Just eat it," Dean mumbled as he served himself some Spaghettios and sat down next to his brother.

"When's daddy coming back? I want pizza. We had pizza at school for lunch today. It was really, really good. How come we never have pizza, Dean? Can you make some?"

"Pizza's expensive, Sammy. We get it free at school. Dad should be back late tonight or early tomorrow," Dean explained. _At least, I hope dad's back soon. _

His teacher was still asking about his father, and Dean wasn't sure how much longer he could stall her.

"Guess what?" Sam said excitedly.

Before Sam could say anything else, they both heard the ominous sound coming from the door.

_**KNOCK KNOCK**_

Dean froze, wondering who it could be. If it was his dad, then he would have let himself in with his key. If he'd lost it or forgot it, he'd have gone to the motel office for a duplicate. If it was Pastor Jim, or Bobby, or Joshua, the only people John would trust to pick the boys up, they would have used the secret knock and the password. It couldn't be the manager either, the rent wasn't due for another week.

"Deeeaann," Sam said impatiently. He didn't like being ignored.

"Sammy, be quiet a sec," Dean tried to shush his brother. Maybe if they thought no one was home, whoever it was would go away.

_**KNOCK KNOCK**_

"But Dean!" Sam tried again.

"Sammy, you have to be quiet," Dean said trying to keep his voice low, but firm.

Then Dean's heart stopped when he heard the sound of the key turning in the lock. He shot out of his seat and ran in front of his brother. The door opened and he felt his heart stop at the sight of two police officers, the motel manager and an official looking woman.

"Hi," she said brightly.

"What do you want?" Dean asked suspiciously, not buying her false smile for a minute. He knew who she was. It was his worst nightmare come true.

"You didn't follow orders, you're a screw up, and we're here for you and your brother," the woman said to Dean and went to grab Sam.

--

_**Present**_

"DEAN!" John growled in frustration.

"What?" he answered in an exasperated tone. "You wanted me to tell the story, so let me tell it."

"I said the real story," John replied. "I may not have been there, but I seriously doubt they said that."

"Dad also said you aren't allowed to put yourself down. Neutral observer, remember," Sam reminded his brother.

"I know what he said, I'm not an idiot," Dean shot back, unable to stop himself.

Sam frowned. "Dean, I'm sorry for what I said earlier," he said sincerely.

"But you did think I wasn't capable," Dean blurted out. _Shut up you dumb ass. You don't need to deal with this._

"I don't have an excuse," Sam said honestly. "I just didn't think you liked the academic stuff. You had to be forced out the door to go to school. I shouldn't have judged until I had all the facts. Forgive me."

"Yeah, but you're cleaning all the weapons," Dean said with a smirk. He could never stay mad at Sammy.

"Deal," Sam replied.

"Dean, I want you to finish," John instructed. He had a feeling that Dean was hiding something, he didn't want to talk about, but John was determined to get to the bottom of it. "If you break the neutral observer rule again, you have to wash, wax, and completely tune up my truck."

Dean rolled his eyes but continued.

--

_**PAST**_

"What do you want?" Dean demanded.

"My name is Tammy Nickerson. I'm a social worker with the county. Is your father home?"

"He went to the store," Dean answered.

"Does he leave you and your brother alone often?" she said.

"No," Dean said firmly. "He went to the store to get milk." The young hunter was trying to keep his temper under control. He could feel Sam trembling behind him, but he was staying quiet like he had been taught. He really didn't like anyone scaring his little brother. He also didn't like the way the officers were looking around.

"What's this?" one of them said as they brought out the .22".

"It's my dad's," Dean said. "We don't touch it."

"I think you boys had better come with us," Tammy said advancing towards Dean.

"No!" Dean protested. "My dad will be back soon." He glanced toward the open door and prayed to every God that existed, and even some extinct ones, that his dad would walk through it.

"We'll make sure he knows where you are if he comes back."

"If?" Dean shot back, not bothering to keep that fact that he was insulted out of his tone. "He didn't abandon us. He's coming back with milk."

"Don't make this more difficult than it already is," Tammy stated.

"Dean, what's going on? I want daddy," Sam said starting to cry.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean said as he knelt beside his brother and pulled him into a hug.

"Boys, come on," Tammy said leaving no room for discussion.

One of the officers went to go pick Sam up, and the scared little boy screamed and clung tighter to his brother.

"DON"T TOUCH HIM!" Dean yelled. "Please, just go away. My dad will be back soon." _Please dad, walk through that door. _Dean hugged Sam tighter and spoke soft, reassuring sentences to his brother. "You're scaring him. Just go away," he said desperately.

"We are not going to let you stay here by yourselves. Please don't make this worse than it has to be." Tammy insisted.

The young hunter realized that he had no choice. The two officers would pick them up and remove them forcibly if they had to.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean repeated again. "Dad will be back soon and he'll fix everything. He's a superhero, remember?"

Sammy gave his brother a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Dean could still see his small shoulders hitching as he tried to stop crying and be brave, just like his big brother was. The problem was that Dean felt like a phoney. He was just as scared as Sam.

--

_**Present**_

"Dad got us back, end of story. Now can we move on? We still have to decide what to do about this hunt."

"You're impossible," Sam said to his brother.

"What do you want from me, Sam?" Dean asked, trying once again to sound angry, but to his ears, the words just made him sound tired.

"I just want you to stop..."

Whatever Sam had been about to say, John had a feeling it wasn't going to help the situation. He could understand Dean's reluctance to talk about it, but he needed to get it off his chest. "Sam," he cut his son off. "I want you to tell Dean what you remember about that time." Maybe with a little break, Dean might be encouraged to pick up the story again.

"I don't remember much," Sam replied. He was silent for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. "I remember being scared, but most of all, Dean, I remember you being there with me."

--

_**Past**_

The two Winchester brothers sat next to each other on the uncomfortable plastic seats at the local hospital. There was an officer that sat next to them, preventing the boys from talking and trying to work out a cover story. The boys sat silently, clinging to each other, each wishing for their dad to show up and take them home.

The social worker approached the two boys, followed closely by two doctors. "Sam, Dean, this is Dr. Cooper, and this is Dr. Dennison. They are going to take you for an examination."

"I don't feel sick," Sam protested immediately. "Daddy takes us to the doctor when we're sick. Why are we here? I want to go home. I want daddy!" He lost the battle with his tears.

"We just need to make sure that you're both okay."

"Look, lady," Dean protested, wrapping his arms around Sam's shoulders. "I know what you're looking for and you're wasting your time. My dad doesn't hit us. Can't you just leave us alone? Go help somebody that needs it and quit picking on us."

"Dean," she said firmly. "I want what's best for you and your brother. This examination is going to happen, and it can be done the easy way, or the hard way. If I have to sedate you to get your cooperation, I will. Now, Sam will go with Dr. Cooper, and Dean, you'll go with Dr. Dennison."

There was no way he could let that happen. "I'll cooperate," Dean said in a resigned tone. "But me and Sam stick together."

"It'll be quicker this way," Tammy insisted.

"You mean you're thinking you can get my brother to talk and say that my father hurts us, just because he's little. He stays with me," Dean insisted.

"This is not a negotiation," Tammy said stiffly.

"Dean," Sam said in a scared tone.

The young hunter knelt once more in front of his brother. "Sammy, I promise, it's just for a little while. Just do what the doctor asks. Tell him the truth, and we'll be with dad and on our way out of this funky town," he whispered.

Sam froze at the code word. That meant that the situation was serious and Sam was not to answer any of their questions. He could do this. Dean was counting on him.

--

Soon, the young seven year old was seated on an exam table, dressed in a light, yellow gown with green frogs on it, licking a grape lollipop.

"Hi, Sammy," Dr. Cooper said coming over and sitting in front of seven year old.

"Only Dean and daddy can call me Sammy," the little boy informed him.

"I'm going to listen to your heart and lungs," the doctor told him and slipped the cold metal disk under Sam's gown. "Can you tell me about your brother?"

"Dean won an award at school for story he wrote. That's cool, isn't it? Dean can do anything," Sam said, his hero worship sincere.

"What about your dad? How do you get along with him?"

"I got a 100 on my spelling test. Dean said I was really smart. We had pizza for lunch at school. I like pizza. Do you like pizza?"

"Yeah," the doctor said and stuck the thermometer in Sam's ear. "Now tell me about your dad."

"Want to see me do a somersault? We were doing them in gym, but I couldn't get them. Dean showed me how to do it, and now I can. Want to see?"

"Another time maybe," the doctor said. "Your dad?"

Dr Cooper learned a lot in that hour. He learned that Sam liked grape lollipops but preferred green. He learned that Sam liked school and reading, that he really liked the tumbling they did in gym and he wanted to be a gymnast. He thought space was cool and really wanted to became an astronaut, and open up a library in space because he loved to read. Basically, he learned everything about Sam Winchester except what he wanted to know. _The kid was good, he thought with a shake of his head. _If they wanted information on John Winchester, it wasn't coming from his sons.

--

Later that evening, the dark blue sedan pulled up in front of a large, brick building.

"Alright boys, this is where you're going to stay for tonight," Tammy said to the two boys huddled together in the backseat.

"Smithville Children's Center," Sam read the sign above the door.

"You said if we cooperated with you, we could go home," Dean exploded.

"I said it would be easier for you. This is just for the next couple of days until we can get a hold of your dad."

"He's probably home right now, worried sick about were we are," Dean murmured.

Knowing there was still no choice, they followed the social worker into the building where, once again, someone tried to separate them, saying that they had a wing for boys under 10 and one for boys over 10. Dean put his foot down. There was no way they were taking Sam from him.

The two young Winchesters had thought that they had finally caught a break when a counsellor, Jill Tracy, stood up for them and said that it would be okay for Sam to stay with Dean, because she could understand the little boy being scared.

--

_**Present**_

"I can't believe that stupid woman was just trying to get me to trust her by letting me stay with you," Sam said in disgust, with a shake of his head. "So, it's my fault too, Dean. I shouldn't have told her anything."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Dean insisted. "You were seven. You had no way of knowing she was a plant."

Jill had come to see him after breakfast. She had seemed really nice and asked Sam lots of questions about his brother. Sam, thinking it was okay to talk about Dean, told her everything that Dean did for him, from helping with homework to making sure that nobody picked on him or was mean to him.

What the seven year old hadn't known was that she and the social worker had conspired to get Sam to trust her, and effectively find out what the doctor couldn't the day before. Sam was still angry, to this day, that he had allowed himself to be used like that.

"I still remember how upset you were, Sammy, when she got up to testify at the hearing. I wanted to hit her," Dean said.

"We both did," John admitted.

"Especially after her recommendation," Dean said.

John kept his smile to himself. He was pleased when Dean picked up the story again.

--

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his shirt and tie as he and Sam followed the social worker into the court room. A huge smile lit up his face as he saw his father sitting behind the table at the other end of the room. Both boys broke away from Tammy and ran to their father.

"DAD!" they both cried as they ran to their father and hugged him tight.

"Sammy, Dean, I missed you," John said as he returned the hug. He hated it when the court officers came over and made his boys sit down at the table across from them. They were so close, yet so far.

The doctors took the stand first and both said the same thing. That there was no evidence of abuse, and that both boys were healthy.

The social worker got up and presented her report, saying that while she agreed with the doctors, she didn't think that the boys should be returned to John until he could provide proof of stable employment, and a clean, safe place for the boys to live.

Then Jill got up and repeated everything Sam had told her, yet she had made it sound as if Dean was John's slave rather than Sam's brother.

"Sam is definitely a bright boy," she had said at the end of her testimony. "Both boys are. He adores his older brother, but it's my professional opinion they have too much of a dependence on each other. So while I do agree that the boys should be placed into temporary foster care, I think they should be placed into separate homes."

Sam and Dean were dumfounded. They had thought Jill was on there side. Dean made a silent vow to never trust anyone again. Sam just sat there wide eyed, looking like someone had kicked his puppy. He had thought Jill was his friend.

"Thank you," Judge Chambers said. "I'll take the reports under advisement and give you my decision in the morning.

--

_**The next day**_

_**"**_Please be seated," the court bailiff said as the judge took a seat.

"I have weighed all the evidence that has been presented, and in my opinion, it would be in the best interest of Samuel and Dean Willman to be put into temporary foster care until their father, Jonathan Willman, meets all the terms spelled out in Ms. Nickerson's reports."

"No!" Dean cried jumping to his feet. "I want to go home. Why won't you let us go home?"

"Sit down," the judge said firmly. "I understand this is a trying time for us all," she continued in a placating tone that Dean found irritating. "As I said, this is to be temporary. Mr. Willman, you will be given supervised visits and will be expected to make regular appointments with the court, with proof that you are attempting to find housing and employment, and suitable child care while you're at work. Now, with regards to placement, I am inclined to agree with Ms. Tracy's reports. Therefore, Samuel, you will be placed into the care of Andrea and Lloyd Randall, and Dean, you will be in the care of Kandace and Edward Harden. There will be an adjustment period of 3 weeks when Mr. Willman, you may call Ms. Nickerson to arrange visitation."

Dean looked stunned, hurt, defeated, angry, sad, tired, and disappointed all at once. He had failed. He couldn't believe how badly he had just screwed up. His father had warned him. Why hadn't he listened? He knew what happened when you didn't follow orders. Would he ever be able to do anything right? Not only was he being taken away from his dad, but he was being taken away from Sammy.

_**Sammy!**_

Dean turned to his brother. "What's going on, Dean?" Sam asked in a scared tone. "What was that mean lady saying? I don't want to go with the other people. I want to stay with you and daddy."

"Come with me," Tammy said holding out her hand to Sam.

"No, go away. I hate you. Dean, don't let her take me," Sam started crying hard.

Dean didn't know what to do. Everything he had tried seemed to make things worse. He looked toward his father, silently pleading for him to do something, anything. John couldn't take it anymore. He ran over to his boys, pushing his way to them, knelt down and opened his arms. Both boys jumped into them and he hugged both of them desperately. He could see Dean struggling not to cry, hell he was trying to hold his own tears back. He was losing his boys. He couldn't think of a worse hell. Mary would be so disappointed in him.

The officers quickly stepped in. John felt the hand on his shoulder and he reluctantly let go, as getting arrested was not going to help his cause. Dean, on the other hand, had no such worries. He clung to his brother with everything he had, cursing those around them and threatening to hit anyone who touched his brother. Sam just clung to Dean and cried. The two officers literally had to pry them apart. They yelled for each other and their father, and Dean lost his battle with his tears as he was led through a door and could no longer see his family.

John almost lost it when Sam and Dean were out of opposite doors of the court room. The urge to hit someone was growing stronger. He wanted to grab his boys and run and never stop. He felt the hand of his court appointed attorney on his shoulder reminding him he'd just make the situation worse if he interfered.

--

_**PRESENT**_

Dean stopped talking abruptly and got up and grabbed a beer. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," he insisted.

"Alright," John agreed. He knew Dean probably needed a break. "You can finish tomorrow. I think there's a game on now. What do you say I call in an order for a pizza and you and Sam can go pick it up, get some more beer and we can watch the game?"

"Sounds good," Dean agreed quickly. "Just none of those girly pizzas Sammy likes. I mean, pineapple on a pizza, it's just not natural."

"It's called Hawaiian," Sam defended himself. "I noticed that didn't stop you from eating it the last time I got it either."

John watched the banter and the teasing continue as the boys prepared to go get the pizza. While the boys were out, John took the opportunity to pick up the phone and make a call.

"Hey, Jefferson," he said to his hunting buddy. "It's John. Can you make me a teacher's certificate?" He paused. "Yeah, thanks. Make it in the name of Dean Newstead."

TBC

AN: This chapter didn't turn out like I thought it would. I had fully intended to have Dean talk about his time foster care, but it seemed too abrupt to skip all the stuff that came before it. I promise next chapter, you'll find out what happens.

AN: Hopefully the section with CPS sounds plausible. I couldn't find much on google, so I made it all up.

Please read and review.


	5. Chapter 5

Again sorry for taking so long to update. But here is chapter 5. I hope you enjoy.

As always a big thank you to my beta reader Soar, and to Sinead-Conlan and JuliaAurelia for all their help with the chapter.

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

Chapter 5

_The young man sat stiffly in a shirt and tie, across from the woman dressed in judicial robes._

"I've made my decision," she said.

"Can I go back to my dad and Sammy?" the boy asked.

The woman suddenly laughed, a cold, hard sound. "No. Sammy is doing so well without you that I'm going to leave him with the Randalls. I'm going to make the arrangement permanent. You'll never see your family again."

_**"NO!" **_27 year old Dean Winchester shouted, instantly waking his father and brother from their deep sleep.

"Dean," John said in concern and made his way over to the bed where Dean was thrashing in some kind of nightmare. "Wake up, son." John reached over and gave Dean a small shake, hoping to rouse him from his slumber.

Dean opened his eyes and stared at his father, when he suddenly felt his stomach heave. He bolted from the bed, ran to the bathroom, and emptied his stomach of all the pizza and beer he'd had earlier that evening.

"You okay?" Sam asked when Dean eventually sank back against the bathroom wall.

"Fine," Dean gave the expected reply.

"Here, son," John said, joining them in the bathroom and handing Dean a bottle of water, which Dean accepted gratefully. John gestured to Sam to follow him and give Dean a minute to compose himself. Sam knew that Dean needed this and reluctantly followed his father.

It was about 10 minutes before the young hunter finally exited the bathroom. He smiled sheepishly at his father and sat on the edge of his bed. He was tired, but the nightmare was still fresh in his mind. He really didn't want to go back to sleep, but he read the expression on the faces of his father and brother. They wanted to talk and Dean wasn't sure what was worse.

"Want to talk about it?" John asked, his tone implying that this wasn't really a question.

"Nothing to talk about," Dean deflected.

"You wake up screaming in the middle of the night, and you're saying your fine. You can't honestly expect me to believe that," John said.

Dean tried to shrug it off. "There was this girl..."

"Nice try," John cut him off. "Talk," he ordered.

Dean remained silent. He didn't want to talk about this.

Sam walked over and sat next to his brother so that they were shoulder to shoulder. "It was about getting taken from dad that time wasn't it?" Sam guessed.

John walked over and sat on the other side, effectively pinning Dean in the middle. "Please son, talk to me," John pleaded.

Dean gave a deep sigh. They weren't going to leave him alone. "They were going to take us permanently," Dean admitted with a shudder. "Said Sam was doing so well with his new family."

"It was always temporary, Dean," John said trying to reassure his eldest son.

"But…" Dean started. The dream had seemed too real.

"Dean," Sam said. "There was no way the Randalls wanted to keep me. Trust me on that one, okay?"

Dean looked at his brother. "Sammy, what did you do?"

"Remember that story you read me, Dean? The Ransom of Red Chief."

"You didn't," Dean said.

"Oh," Sam said with a laugh. "I did."

--

_**PAST**_

Seven year old Sam Winchester was still crying hard as Tammy Nickerson led him toward a waiting blue sedan. The only thing he was certain of was that he wanted Dean and his daddy.

"It's okay," Tammy said to the distraught boy. "The Randalls are very nice people. I'm sure you'll get along splendidly."

_**"IIIII wwaannnttt Deeeeaaannnn,"**_ Sam wailed. _**"WWWHHEEERRRR'SS MMMYY DAADDDYYY?"**_

"Your dad and your brother are both fine. Your dad just needs a bit of help to look after you and your brother properly," Tammy explained as she opened the door to the back and placed Sam in the seat. She got into the front and started the ignition.

Sam sat sniffling in the back of the car. He was scared and he wanted to go home. He tried to pay attention to where they were taking him, but there were so many turns he couldn't follow. What would Dean and his daddy do? He thought about it all during the drive.

They eventually arrived at a small, yellow bungalow and Sam barely remembered being introduced to the Randalls. His first clear memory was being horrified when he was led into a clown-themed bedroom.

They were everywhere. On the wallpaper, the bedspread, the sheets, and there were several stuffed ones on the shelves.

"All little kids love clowns," Andrea Randall said. "We get boys and girls so we decided a neutral theme would be best."

--

_**Present**_

"That's why you're afraid of clowns?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"They were everywhere. Talk about overkill," Sam said with a shudder.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean replied trying to sound sincere. "If I had known, I never would have teased you all those times."

"Yes, you would have," Sam replied, not believing Dean for a minute. "That was your job as a big brother."

--

_**Past**_

Sam looked around the room in disgust. He hated clowns. He opened his duffle bag and pulled out a picture of his daddy and Dean and set it on the bedside table. As he did, one of his books fell out of his bag. He reached over and picked up a copy of Ransom of Red Chief. Dean had read this to him. Sam suddenly missed his big brother so bad it hurt.

He had seen the book in the store and begged Dean to buy it for him. He liked the name of the man that wrote it, O. Henry. It was the name of Sam's favourite chocolate bar. He would beg Dean to read him the story of the little boy who had been kidnapped. The boy had been such a brat that the kidnappers kept trying to return him.

That's when the idea popped into his head. He'd be such a brat that the Randalls would be begging his daddy to take him back.

The first thing he wanted to do was get rid of the clowns. He looked on the shelves and saw a set of markers. He thought about scribbling over the faces, but he remembered all the times his family took off in the middle of the night, and how often things got left behind, or broken. No, he wouldn't destroy something that wasn't his.

First, he examined the bed spread. The underneath was just plain blue so he pulled it off, along with the sheets, and turned them inside out. You could still see the clowns, just not as much. Then he flipped the bed spread over. He went to the shelf. He thought about putting the clowns under his bed, but that creeped him out, so he stuffed them in his closet. He'd lived out of his duffle bag plenty of times, he could do it again. He'd just snag some salt from the dining room to put in front of the closet door. He just wished there was something he could do about the wallpaper.

"Sammy, come get lunch," Andrea said stepping in the room. She looked around with a frown. "Not a clown fan, huh?"

"Clowns are evil," Sam said with conviction.

Andrea gave a small laugh. "Point taken. Do you like peanut butter and jelly?"

"Yeah," Sam said. He was hungry.

He followed Andrea into the kitchen and sat at the table as the woman put the sandwich in front of him.

"I don't like red jelly," he announced, putting his plan in motion. "Dean uses green."

"I don't have any apple jelly, but I have grape, would that be better?"

"Green," Sam insisted.

"Okay, how about you eat that for today and tomorrow, I'll go to the supermarket. Is there anything else you want me to pick up?" Andrea offered kindly.

Sam just shook his head. He pretended to choke down his sandwich. He was actually very fond of red jelly.

It continued like that through the weeks. When Andrea bought the apple jelly, Sam informed her it was the wrong brand and refused to eat it. No matter what Andrea bought, it was the wrong color, or flavor, or brand name. It seemed nothing could please him.

When he wasn't in school, Sam spent his time rearranging Lloyd's carefully arranged alphabetical bookshelves and movies. He hid Lloyd's car keys, snuck into their room at night while they were sleeping and turned off their alarm clock. He did the opposite of pretty much whatever they told him.

His favourite comeback whenever they tried to talk to him about his behaviour was, "But that's how Dean does it."

Six weeks later, by the time Sam had left, Andrea and Lloyd decided they never wanted to hear the name Dean again.

--

Dean looked at his little brother in a new light. "Why, Sammy, you little devil. I never knew you had that in you."

"Too bad it didn't work," Sam said regretfully.

"Hey, Sammy, you were seven," John replied.

"Yeah, but we still ended up there for 6 weeks."

"It was never you boys. It was me. For whatever reason, that social worker didn't like me. After about 2 weeks, I lucked out. There was a new garage opening in town and they were looking for mechanics. The guy that ran it even offered me the apartment above the shop. I was told that wasn't suitable though, because there was only one room. I said you boys could share it and I'd take the pull out couch. That wasn't good enough," John said bitterly. "I was told you boys had to have separate rooms. She insisted that Dean was growing and needed his own space. Believe me, when they finally let me see you, I was seriously tempted to knock out the security guard and just take off."

"Why didn't you?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. There was security everywhere and getting caught doing that was not an option, or I could have lost you two for a lot longer than I did."

"We did end up taking off, though, didn't we?" Sam asked. That time was still a bit fuzzy.

"Yeah. It was tough to find a three bedroom apartment. Most of them wouldn't rent to someone who had 1 weeks work history at a brand new garage. Too much of a risk. There was one apartment complex that agreed to rent if I could come up with first and last months rents, and security deposit. It would have taken me weeks to come up with the money and there was no way I could afford it on what I was making."

Sam and Dean looked at their father. This was something they hadn't heard before.

"How'd you manage to get it?" Dean asked curiously.

"I worked out a plan with my boss at the garage. He loaned me enough money to get the apartment for a couple months. Then I would take off, and meet him at his place and it would give us a chance to lay low until the heat was off." _Again, John's mind supplied.  
_  
"How come that guy helped you out so much?" Dean voiced the question he and Sam were both thinking.

"We had a lot in common. He found my journal and admitted he was a hunter, too. He was in town to help his friend get his garage off its feet. He apparently ran a highly successful salvage yard."

"That's how you met Bobby?" Sam asked in surprise.

"Yup. I was reluctant to trust him at first, but I called Pastor Jim, who assured me that I could."

Dean was just as surprised as Sam. After they had got out of foster care, they'd arrived in South Dakota, at the home of Bobby Singer.

At first, Dean had thought he was just a grouchy old man, but quickly discovered that was all an act. They had stayed with Bobby for a long time, longer than Dean could ever remember staying in one spot. If Dean had thought he was grateful to him before, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling now.

"Without Bobby, you boys would have been in foster care a lot longer than six weeks. I'm telling you, it was the worst time of my life. I just wanted to crawl into a bottle and get stinking drunk until they gave you back to me," John admitted.

"Why didn't you?" Sam asked hoping his father would answer. His dad wasn't usually this talkative.

"The courts kept using the word temporary. I wasn't about to do anything to risk it becoming permanent," John explained feeling a little guilty. He had changed a few parts of his story.

He had spent the first two days in a bottle, then Bobby had found him and offered him the job, and helped him get the apartment, but Sam and Dean didn't need to know about that failure. He had let them down so many times, he didn't want to do it again.

Sam and John both felt Dean stiffen at their words. "What is it, son?" John asked gently, worried for a second that maybe Dean had picked up on some discrepancy.

"Nothing," he replied, eyeing the door.

"Forget it," John said rising from Dean's side, standing directly in front of him and planting a hand firmly on Dean's shoulder.

"What's bugging you? Please Dean, talk to me?" John pleaded.

"I… um," Dean wanted to get it off his chest. He'd been carrying it around for so long.

"Dean, did something happen?" Sam asked his brother.

John felt his temper grow, not at his son, but at Dean's foster parents. If they had hurt his boy in anyway, he already had the targets of his next hunt picked out.

"No, they didn't do anything?" Dean said sadly knowing what his father was thinking. "I did."

"What are you talking about?" John asked.

"You and Sam did all you could to get us back together. I..." he stopped abruptly.

John wrapped his arm around his distraught son. "What is it, Dean? What do you think you did?"

"I almost kept us apart."

--

_**Past**_

Dean's tears had dried up by the time the other court officer, a woman named Beth, loaded him into another official car and drove him to the home of Kandace and Edward Harden.

Like he often did when something overwhelmed him, Dean had retreated deep inside himself, and by the time they got where they were going, he had gone completely mute. He wouldn't speak or acknowledge anyone.

Kandace and Edward Harden had been foster parents for 6 years, and they often took the kids that the system deemed difficult. They were used to kids smart mouthing, threatening, and they'd even had a few react physically. They weren't used to someone who was quiet. Dean didn't look like he would be any trouble, and they were wondering why he'd been sent to them. Still, you couldn't judge a book by its cover.

"Your room's right this way," Kandace told him. Dean followed her down the hallway, to a small room in the back. There wasn't much there. It had white walls and a small green throw rug on the floor. The shelves contained a few toys and books that had been left by other kids. The sheets on the bed were beige, but they were clean. The room was better than some of the places Dean had stayed in. He sat on the bed and grabbed his backpack. The only thing he removed was the picture of his parents. He set it on the stand next to his bed. Then he changed his mind and stuffed it back in his bag. He had let them take him and Sammy, his mom would be so disappointed.

_Suck it up, Winchester, he told himself. Just worry about how to get back to Dad and Sammy._

He hadn't missed the looks his foster parents were giving him over the first couple of days, and he decided that he had better start acting normal, or they might send him some place worse and not let him see family. Both the Hardens relaxed when Dean started talking that night at dinner.

It was a couple of days after that when Edward asked Dean to get into the car. He had an appointment. To Dean's ears, the guy actually sounded proud.

Not wanting to go, but knowing he had no choice, Dean followed and he was extremely surprised when they drove through the gates of a school called Eden Academy.

"Is this right?" he asked. Surely his foster parents didn't send their charges to private schools.

"Yup," Edward said with a smile. "Your old teacher, Grace Albright, recommended you. It's a school that works with gifted students."

"I'm not gifted," Dean protested. "This is just a waste of time. Can't you just send me to the same school as Sammy? I want to see my brother."

"You can in about two weeks. You have a visit scheduled then."

"Sammy needs me," Dean protested. "Dad needs me."

"Your father's just run into some hard times. He just needs to get himself straightened out."

_**"He is,"**_Dean said in a cold, hard tone. "We were doing just fine until everyone decided to butt in."

"Your dad left you in charge of a 7 year old for two weeks. You're a kid too, Dean. You shouldn't have to bear that kind of responsibility."

"Sammy is my responsibility. I'm his big brother. It's my job to look after him. My dad's the best dad in the world. You don't know a damn thing about us."

"I'm not trying to be your father, Dean..."

"You aren't fit to tie his shoes," Dean said rudely. He was not going to tolerate anyone putting down his father.

Edward tightened his fingers on the steering wheel. He knew that the kid was hurting, and he didn't want to make the situation worse. "I'm not going to get into that debate with you, buddy..."

_**"DON"T!"**_ Dean thundered. _**"DON'T YOU EVER CALL ME THAT AGAIN. I HATE YOU! YOU'RE NOT MY DAD!"**_

Edward was glad that they had pulled into the parking lot. He reached over and laid his hand on Dean's shoulder, not surprised when the boy shrugged it off. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I won't call you that anymore. You're hurting. I get that, Dean. I'm not some heartless jerk that I can't see it. To be honest, I don't care if you like me, but I will tell you right now, mister, I will _**not**_ tolerate rudeness under any circumstances. What would your dad say if he could see you now? He'd be so disappointed in you, don't you think?"

He would, Dean realized as Edward's words hit home. If Dean had talked like that to any adult, no matter what the reason, in front of his father, he'd never sit comfortably again. "I'm sorry," Dean mumbled softly, addressing the floor mats. The fight had drained out of him completely.

"That's alright. I know this can't be easy, so we'll just pretend this never happened." Edward wondered if had had said the wrong thing about Dean's father, because it seemed as if the spark in Dean's eyes seemed to drain out of him along with his anger. _Was the kid that desperate for his father's approval? _

_Maybe they were right to take him, Edward stated to himself. Maybe getting this kid away from his father was a good thing. _

_--_

A short time later, Dean found himself sitting in a small room with what looked like an IQ test in front of him. Most of the questions looked easy, but Dean was seriously considering deliberately, answering all the questions wrong. He didn't want to go to school here. Just as he was about to check off the incorrect answer, he stopped. Maybe if he did good, behaved himself and stopped acting like a spoiled brat, the court would see that his dad had done a good job raising him and they'd let him go home. Deciding that was the better course of action, Dean checked the correct answer and quickly made his way through the rest of the test.

After an interview and an oral exam, Dean was finally allowed to leave. He'd answered all the questions to the best of his ability, but he was convinced that he wasn't going to get accepted. So he was extremely surprised when at dinner the next night, Kandace told him that he would be starting at the school on Monday.

"Dean, stop fidgeting," Kandace said as she drove Dean through the front gates.

"I look like an accountant," he complained in a whining tone that had Kandace trying not to laugh.

"It's not that bad."

"Why do we gotta wear a uniform anyway?" Dean questioned.

"It's the rules, bu…" She stopped. She'd been about to call him buddy. "Dean."

"Rules suck," he mumbled.

"They do, sometimes, don't they? I bet your dad is proud of you for getting in here. It's not easy."

Dean gave her a small smile. He hoped his dad was proud. Edward had told her about his suspicions and she was beginning to understand what he was talking about. Dean's mood seemed to be tied directly to his father. If you slighted him in any way, Dean angered easily and was quick to defend. If you implied that his father would be disappointed in him, all fight drained out of him and he toed the line. If you said something positive, he eagerly agreed. What saddened both of the Hardens was that when you told Dean his father would be proud of him, he gave this small smile liked he hoped it was true, but he didn't quite believe it.

To Kandace, who was a child psychologist, Dean had all the signs of an abused child. She knew that he'd been examined thoroughly by a doctor and there wasn't a mark on him, but she knew that some kinds abuse didn't leave a mark, and left wounds that took far longer to heal than a physical injury, and she felt her heart going out to the young boy sitting next to her. No eleven year old should have to bear the weight of the world on their shoulders.

"I bet your mom would be too," Kandace added tentatively. She wasn't sure how he'd react to his mom being brought up.

_His mom would be proud? That was something that__hadn't occurred to Dean. He did want his mom to be proud of him. _"Maybe it won't be too bad," he mumbled, not looking at Kandace.

Dean walked into his classroom and looked around. There were only 7 other kids in the classroom and they were all dressed like him. Blue blazers with the school crest, white dress shirt, and a blue and green striped tie. The boys wore grey pants, and the girls wore tartan kilts that matched the colors on the tie.

"Hi," the girl next to him said. "I'm Sophie and this is Mark, Ben, Jackie, Ian, Becky and Michelle."

"Dean," he introduced himself.

"I'm glad you're here, man," the boy named Ian said. "It sucks getting stuck without a partner."

Dean looked around. Were they talking to him? He was more than shocked when the day ended and he had invitations from all his classmates to hang out. Dean declined. He just wanted to get home and start his homework, which he'd had a ton of.

Much to Dean's surprise, he actually liked the school. He was able to do his work as fast as he wanted, and the other kids were smarter than he was, so he could answer questions and do his work without sticking out like a sore thumb. He even went over to Ian's house one day after school. He felt a little guilty because he enjoyed himself. Was it wrong to have a good time if he wasn't going home to his dad and brother at night?

--

_**Present **_

"Is that why you're feeling so guilty? You liked the school they sent you too," Sam replied.

"That's nothing to feel guilty about," John replied. "The courts were keeping me updated with what was going on with you boys. I was proud of you, Dean," John said sincerely.

"Thanks," Dean confirmed. "That's not it though."

"What was it?" John asked looking for clarification.

"They..." Dean stopped.

"Dean," John prompted.

"I heard Tammy talking to Kandace when we got back from that visit with you. They wanted to... she said..."

"Dean, it's okay," Sam said, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder and trying to calm him down. He could tell Dean was about to lose it.

Not being able to take it anymore, Dean pushed out from under the grip of his father and brother and paced the room like a caged tiger.

"Son, you need to get this out," John encouraged.

"I... I overheard the conversation."

"You said that," Sam reminded his brother. "What was it about?" he asked.

--

_**Past**_

Kandace and Edward had a silent conversation with their eyes. They were on their way back from the court house, where Dean had just had a visit with his dad and brother. They were worried about the boy they had in the back seat. The three Winchesters had been so happy to see each other. The problem was that the visit had to end, each of the boys going back to their respective foster homes. The separation hadn't been any easier than it had been that first day in the courtroom.

Dean had been quiet and subdued for the rest of the day. He stayed in his room and refused to come out. The next day, he'd gotten in trouble at school for mouthing off to his teacher. The art project that day had apparently been making fathers day cards.

Tammy Nickerson had been making her rounds and checking up on the kids she was in charge of. After visiting with Dean, who kept asking to go home, Tammy truly felt bad when she couldn't give him a time frame. Dean made his opinion on that quite clearly known, with more than a few choice words thrown in.

Kandace wanted to talk to Tammy about the possibility that Dean was being mentally abused by his father, and although she felt awful for doing this to him, she walked into the room.

"Dean Willman, you know better. Edward and I _**do not **_tolerate that kind of language. Now apologize to Mrs. Nickerson and go to your room."

"You can't make me, _**Kandy**_," He sneered. "You're not my mother and _**Ed **_is not my father."

She hated being called Kandy and tried not to cringe. "No, but how do you think they'd react to this blatant display of disrespect. Think of how disappointed they'd be."

True to form, Dean went still. He looked for a second like he was about to cry, but the glistening tears dried fast. Kandace wondered if she might have gone too far by bringing Dean's mother into it. His shoulders slumped and he turned and stalked off to his bedroom, then he slammed the door so hard that it shook the whole house.

"Sorry about that," Kandace said apologizing for Dean.

"I'm used to it," Tammy said. "I hope he's not being too much trouble for you and Edward."

"On the contrary, he hasn't. He had some problems initially, but that's to be expected. Then he really settled down. He's so different from the kids Edward and I are used to dealing with. Except for a bit of trouble recently, I've got nothing but glowing reports from his teachers. He's very intelligent, working on an eighth grade level in most subjects. Mr. Karsten, his math teacher, has Dean working at a 10th grade level, and he's flying through the work. They all say he's a joy to work with and he has a bright future ahead of him. He's extremely helpful around the house. He's usually pretty respectful. I think visiting with his father kind of threw him off track. It has to be rough on him. He worships his dad, but..." she trailed off.

"What?" Tammy asked.

"I wonder about Dean's father. I mean, I know a lot of kids put their dad on a pedestal, but Dean, he just..." She stopped for a moment to gather her thoughts. "It's like pleasing his father and obeying orders is all Dean seems to live for."

Tammy frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Well, you saw how he just reacted. If you tell Dean that his dad will be disappointed in him, Dean shuts down, like he did something wrong. Kids make mistakes, they make their parents mad, but Dean acts like it's the end of the world if he feels that he let his father down. It's almost like he's been programmed to obey, to look after his brother, or follow orders. I read the file the court gave us. It sounds like the poor kid's his father's slave rather than his son."

Tammy thought about the information she had been given. True, there had been no signs of physical abuse, and accounts from teachers and John's friends had made the situation appear what it was. A single father down on his luck, who just needed some help to get his life together. She hadn't really had a psychological evaluation done. Had she missed some sign?

"Maybe I'll arrange for a psychological evaluation of Dean. See if there may be something going on."

"I'd appreciate it," Kandace said sincerely. "I know I'm not supposed to get attached, but I can't help it. There's just something about Dean. He's doing so well here with school, he has friends. I know he misses his brother, but I don't want to give him back. I hate the thought of him going back to his father, there's something about that man I don't like."

"I know, I feel the same way. He actually thought that a one bedroom apartment above a mechanic's shop was a suitable home. I put a stop to that. I figure the boy will be with you for a while at the rate his father's going."

"How is his brother doing?" Kandace asked curiously. "Dean talks about him so much."

Tammy shook her head. "He's having some adjustment problems. He's acting out. Nothing too serious, though. I have to admit I'm a little surprised. I didn't think the Randalls would have any problems with Sam. He seemed like such a quiet kid. I thought Dean would be trouble and that's why I recommended he be placed with you and Edward. I can't deny that Dean is doing remarkably well under your care. I'm sure his brother will come around as well. Taking those two boys may have been the best thing that ever happened to them. He doesn't deserve a father who treats him like a servant. Trust me, Kandace, if there was any way for me to give Dean to you permanently, I would."

--

Dean had been sitting on his bed berating himself for the way he had acted. He was supposed to be showing people what a good job his father had done raising him. Being polite to court officers was a big part of that. He decided to swallow his pride and go apologize to Miss Nickerson. He wasn't sorry, but he had to be respectful and polite to others, just like his dad had told him, even if he was just acting.

He stealthily walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. He was just about to enter when he heard the conversation about his dad treating him like a servant, and his flourishing under the care of the Hardens.

Then he heard the words about staying here permanently. He quietly made his way back to his room. This time he didn't even try to stop his tears. He had screwed up again, so badly this time that they were going to take him away forever.

He opened his duffle bag and pulled out his picture of his parents, hugged it to his chest and lay back down on his bed. "I'm sorry, mom. I'm so sorry."

--

_**Present**_

John just stared at Dean, dumbfounded at what his son had just revealed. "Dean," he said softly. "You did _**nothing**_ wrong. Don't, son," John said holding up his hand to stop Dean's protest. "Kandace Harden had no right to do that to you. Nothing you did could disappoint me, Dean. They used it to make you behave." John was trying to keep his temper in check. He didn't want Dean to think he was mad.

"But they were going to send me to a psychiatrist, they wanted to keep me."

"I got the job and the apartment. I met all the conditions, and I even had a friend of Bobby's pretending that she would look after you when I wasn't home. They would have had a hard time proving what they were saying," John tried to convince himself. He _**had**_ treated Dean like a servant and he still felt guilty about that. He just didn't know what else to do.

"I was 11. I didn't know that then. I thought I had messed up again, and because I was doing so well, they'd use it against you."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, son," John said sincerely. He still hated the fact that when they'd gotten to Bobby's, he'd had to ask Dean to go back to playing down his intelligence. "I'm going to say this once more. You bring it up again, and I'll beat it out of you. You _**did not**_ mess up. I was so proud of you. Now, I don't know about you two, but I need some sleep. Dean, think you can go back to bed?" John asked knowing that Dean wanted to change the subject.

"I'm gonna stay up for a while," he said with a small grin. "You can take the bed, Sammy."

"Thanks," Sam said with a yawn. "Thanks for looking out for me."

"You're welcome, Red Chief," Dean said with a wink. While his father and brother went to their beds, Dean sat down at the laptop.

"You better not be surfing porn, Dean," Sam said half asleep.

"You're no fun," Dean mumbled as he brought up Google and typed in physics lessons in the search bar. They had a hunt to prepare for.

TBC

Please read and review and let me know your thoughts. It only takes one to keep my muse happy.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I hope you enjoy this chapter. The usual thanks go out to Soar, JuliaAurelia, and Sinead-Conlan.

"Dean, get out of the car," Sam insisted.

"It's not too late for you to do this, Sam," Dean said trying to stall.

"Yeah, it is. We've established that I know nothing about physics, and dad can't even spell the word, so the students would end up being taught about psychics," Sam replied, trying to set his brother at ease.

"They're going to see right through me," Dean said. He wasn't used to being this unsure about himself and he didn't like it.

"Dean, I got set straight on a lot of things these past couple of days. I _**know**_ you can do this. Dad believes in you, and so do I," Sam said sincerely.

A genuine grin lit up Dean's face, as it often did when he received rare praise from his dad or brother. "Wish me luck, Sammy," Dean said as he got out of the car and headed toward the gate to check in.

"Hey, Dean," Sam called after his brother.

"Yeah?" he said over his shoulder.

"It's Sam, jerk."

"It's always gonna be Sammy, bitch," Dean answered back as Sam knew he would.

"Me and dad will pick you up at 4," Sam said as he drove off.

Dean watched Sam drive away. He really wished he was back in the car. Knowing he had no choice now, he went to the guardhouse to check in.

-----

Dean relaxed a little when he managed to check in with no problems, and was given directions to the administration building. However, stepping through the gates put his heart right back into his stomach.

It was like he had entered another world. It was hard to believe that he was looking at a school. It was like a miniature city. The buildings were all state of the art. There were full sized athletic fields for every sport you could think of.

The worst of it was that everywhere he looked, people were dressed in suits and ties. Dean, himself, was wearing a pair of jeans. He was thankful that he had listened to Sam, and put on a pair that were clean and had no holes, Dean had wanted to wear his jeans that were ripped at the knees, saying that he felt that it would help him relate to the kids better. He'd put his brown shirt on and had buttoned it up, and added the black sports jacket from the suit that he had brought during the airplane demon case. He wished now that he had just worn the whole darn suit. Knowing that there was nothing he could do about it now, he just made his way to the administration office. Upon entering, he gave his name to the receptionist and sat down, waiting for his name to be called. He tried not to fidget. This reminded him of being called to the principal's office when he was in school.

"Mr. Newstead, Principal Maddock will see you now."

Dean stood up, swallowed nervously, thanked the receptionist, and went through the door she had pointed him toward.

-----

Dr. Chad Maddock sat behind his desk, going over the file of his new sub. He was in an extremely bad mood. The most recent physics teacher had broken his collar bone, and had quit. So his time, which he really didn't have, was spent calling candidates to come in for interviews. The head of the board of directors had told him in no uncertain terms that he was getting tired of the accidents, and that he had better get to the bottom of them. The problem had been going on for decades, he hadn't understood why it was such a big deal now, until he'd been informed that Yorktown was in the lowest percentage of scores in sciences of all private high schools. They'd apparently lost 2 students, whose fathers had been the school's biggest donators. The board was looking for someone to blame and unfortunately, Chad found that it was his head on the chopping block.

So to say he was in a bad mood was an understatement, and he took it out on the first guy he saw. The new substitute physics teacher that had just come into his office.

"We have a dress code," he said by way of introduction.

"Sorry, sir," Dean said respectfully. "The school board just called me and asked if I could be here this morning. They never said anything about the dress code. I'll make sure I'm dressed properly tomorrow," Dean said hoping he sounded sincere. He was really hoping to wrap this up quickly. He didn't want to have to come back tomorrow.

"I'm sorry," Chad apologized immediately. It wasn't this guy's fault. "It's understandable and believe me, you're not the first one. It's just been one of those mornings. I just got off the phone with the head of the board of directors. Trust me, that one could try the patience of a saint."

"Tell me about it. I know someone just like that," Dean thought, and a small grin erupted on his face when he thought about how many times Pastor Jim had said that about his dad. "Don't worry about it."

"So what exactly did the board tell you?" Chad asked, as he rubbed his brow. He could feel a headache coming on already.

"Not much," Dean said honestly. Jefferson had said that he knew someone on the board of directors for the school that owed him a favor, and would set it up. Dean really hoped he wouldn't be asked for the name of the contact, as neither his father nor Jefferson had told him that. "I was just asked if I could sub for the physics teacher, since he'd had an accident. He didn't say how long though."

"We'll we need to replace him. Mr. Wellesly decided that he wasn't coming back. It will take me a few days to replace him though. Have you heard about the accidents?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "You seem to go through a lot of physics teachers."

"I hope you're not worried, we've never had a problem with subs, just permanent teachers."

"I'm a teacher," Dean said lightly. "That means I don't scare easily."

Principal Maddock smiled. "You're right about that. I guess only the truly brave become administrators."

"Or just the truly crazy," Dean blurted out and then wished he'd bit his tongue.

Chad burst out laughing and decided that he liked this young man. "I think you're right," he agreed.

"Do you have a lesson plan that I should be following?" Dean asked, glad the man hadn't taken offence to his joke. _Please tell me you do, he said to himself. _He had looked up some information on the internet the night before, but he still wasn't confident in his ability to lead a class.

"No," Chad said with a sigh and Dean bit back an urge to groan. "That's the problem. The kids aren't learning anything. There are so many substitutes, and cancelled classes, assignments and tests. The students love it for that reason and it's actually a very popular class. It's like a free period for them. The thing is, they're not learning, and it's affecting their scores on tests. We rank near the bottom in national testing in our science scores, and we just lost two students because of it."

Dean could suddenly understand why the guy had been in such a bad mood when he walked in. "Because of that, your head's on the chopping block?" Dean guessed, echoing the man's earlier words.

"Yup, so whatever you can do, it would be appreciated. Here's your schedule. You can call me at 555-5739 if you have any questions or need anything."

"Thanks for the heads up," Dean said. He wondered if he would actually even have to teach. Sammy could have done this.

"Here's your schedule and class lists. Good luck," Chad said as he handed an envelope to Dean.

"I'll do my best," Dean said, hoping he sounded confident.

-----

After getting directions to the science building, Dean went straight to his classroom. He was glad that when he looked at his schedule, he didn't have a class during first period. It would give him a chance to look around, and hopefully scan the classroom for EMF.

It was strange being back in a classroom. He hadn't been in one for ten years. He smiled when he realized that they hadn't changed much. There were still the desks, and the chalkboard. This one though, had something other classrooms didn't. A lot of state of the art lab equipment. Dropping out was something he wasn't proud of, but at the time, it had seemed like the only solution. He couldn't let it happen again. He shook his head, trying to keep himself out of the past. He really didn't want to dredge up those memories, instead he pulled out his homemade EMF meter.

He was suddenly so overwhelmed with memories though, that he had to sit down. As much as he didn't want to go there, he found himself pulled down memory lane.

------

_**PAST**_

Dean made his way down the hall, glad that it was finally the last class of the day.

They had just arrived in town the day before and John had left that morning on a hunt. A need to know hunt, where his father had decided he didn't need to know, and Dean had no idea where his father was. He understood that his father had to leave. His dad was a hero. Dean just hated it when he didn't know where his dad was, or what he was fighting, or worst of all, not knowing when he was coming back. _Like he's always so punctual when he does give you that information. Shut up, Dean. _He was so not allowing himself to go there.

Dean's father had managed to find his eldest son a second hand junker of a car. It looked like crap, but it ran well enough for Dean to get himself and his brother to and from school, the library and the grocery store. So that morning, he had driven Sam to school, and enrolled him under the name Wilson. He had wanted to use something more creative, like Bonham, but Sam had put his foot down, as had their father. Dean was always a little nervous when he registered them at a new school, that their old school records wouldn't arrive in time. One of his father's hunter friends, a computer expert, usually doctored them to make them reflect whatever name they were currently using. Dean wished he and Sam could be in the same school. How was he supposed to do his job and keep an eye on his baby brother if he wasn't there?

This school was like any other Dean had been in. Classes were typical and he was bored silly within 10 minutes. The only time Dean had ever liked school was when he went to Eden Academy and could be himself. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone though. That school just had too many bad memories attached to it. Dean made sure to stick to his father's rule about not getting noticed, so he did his best to blend in with everyone else.

One would think "playing dumb" was easy, but it wasn't. Dean had to find a balance. He didn't want to fail too many tests, because that would get him noticed just as much as being too smart. He had to do just enough work to make him an average student, not just on tests, but questions that teachers asked in class, as well. He had made that mistake before and he was determined not to make it again. The problem was that when you got right down to it, Dean was getting tired of pretending all the time. He felt resentful toward Sam, that his brother didn't have to do it.

For the most part though, Dean was managing to play his part. The problem was his physics and math classes. It was an area where he had always excelled, and the area in which he found it the most difficult to play down his natural ability in, because most of the stuff fascinated him.

The biggest problem Dean was finding in this school was the fact that he didn't want to disappoint his teacher. Chase Atley taught both his math and physics classes.

On the first day, Mr. Atley wanted to get a read on his students' abilities. His teacher had put a particularly difficult problem on the board and asked his class to solve it. Not being able to help himself, Dean had blurted out the answer before he really thought about what he had been doing.

Dean wanted to curse himself when Mr. Atley had asked him to stay back after class. He had spent the entire class trying desperately to come up with an excuse as to why he knew the answer. His father was going to kill him if the school tried to call him again.

Much to Dean's surprise, all his teacher wanted was for Dean to show him how he had come up with the answer. Dean relaxed slightly when the teacher hadn't mentioned anything about calling his dad.

From that day forward, Mr. Atley had seemed to take a special interest in Dean. It wasn't anything big, Mr. Atley usually had a book he thought Dean might like, or he just wanted to let him know what a good job he was doing in class.

For the first time in his academic career, Dean found himself wanting to please a teacher. All his homework assignments were turned in on time, and completed to the best of his ability. Dean knew he was breaking his father's rules, but he couldn't help it. He got praised so rarely that he was eating it up with a spoon. He didn't blame his father, he knew his dad was busy, and that what he was doing was important, and Sammy had his friends, and the little geek had been asked to join the debate team. Dean was proud of his family.

Mr. Atley was giving Dean something he hadn't gotten in a long time, though. In the teacher's eyes, he was Dean Winchester, okay Dean Wilson, but it wasn't important. To Mr. Atley, Dean wasn't John's son, a hunter in training, or Sam's brother.

Dean was still nervous that his teacher would want to speak with his father about something, but so far, he hadn't mentioned it, so Dean allowed himself to relax and accepted all the attention he was getting.

Things, for once, seemed to be working out for Dean. His father had shown up after two weeks, telling them that there was a good chance they would finish the school year there, because John had several more potential hunts lined up.

Things were calm between Sam and their father for a change. Sam was happy that they were getting to stay in one spot. Both John and Sam were surprised at the change that had come over Dean. He was more animated than John had seen him in a while, and it seemed that every sentence that came out of Dean's mouth these days, started with the words Mr. Atley.

John had questioned his eldest, but Dean had informed him that he wasn't doing anything that would draw unwanted attention on their family. John believed his son, and didn't press too hard because it was rare to see Dean so upbeat.

The problem was though, that Winchester luck often reared its ugly head.

It didn't seem like much when Mr. Atley mentioned the science fair. Participation was voluntary, so Dean hadn't planned to enter. Then his teacher had called him back and personally asked him to consider entering.

Again, Dean still didn't want to. It was too risky, but part of him wanted to, as a way to say thank you to Mr. Atley for all he had done for him.

Dean hadn't really committed to anything. He just said he'd think about it. His dad was still at home, so maybe he could just ask him. If the school tried to call for any reason, John would be at home, so there would be no suspicions aroused there, and the $250 dollar first prize would really come in handy. His car needed new break lines, and the Impala needed a tune up, plus Sammy's pants were getting way too short. He needed new clothes.

Things started going wrong when Dean had gotten home that night. John was leaving for a hunt. Dean knew from experience that you didn't ask John anything when he was getting ready to leave.

Then, when John left, Sam mentioned that his debate team was going on an overnight field trip to Washington, DC. They would get a tour of the White House, and go to the space museum. Dean was a little jealous over that part. Then out for a fancy dinner and spend the night in a fancy hotel. The cost of the trip was $250 dollars.

Sam had been crushed when Dean told him he couldn't go. Even if they had the money, which they didn't, their father would never agree.

There was one place Dean could get the money, though. If, and that was a big if, Dean won the science fair, he'd be willing to forge the permission slip. The problem was, what would happen if he did win? Would the school go looking for John, like his old one had?

The thing was, Dean couldn't stand seeing his brother so miserable. It was his job to look after his brother right? He doubted that he could win, but if he entered, it would give Sammy hope, and maybe pull him out of his funk.

"Sammy," Dean said to his brother one night.

"What?" Sam huffed. He was still in a very bad mood.

"I might know a way for you to go on your trip," Dean admitted.

"How?" Sam asked. His eyes suddenly narrowed suspiciously. "You're not gonna hustle are you? Dad said you weren't allowed to do it by yourself." That had become a rule after Dean had ended up in the hospital with busted ribs and a punctured lung from a bar fight. To Sam, nothing was worse his brother getting hurt.

"I won't hustle, Sammy, promise," Dean said sincerely. "I just need you to trust me. It's not guaranteed, so you have to promise me that you won't get your hopes up. The trip's not for another month, you know that Dad will be home sometime, and if he is, he isn't going to let you go."

"But if he's not?" Sam said hopefully.

"Then I'll sign the permission slip."

"Did I ever tell you that you're the best big brother ever?" Sam said fondly.

"Don't get your hopes up," Dean cautioned his brother again. "It's still a major long shot, Sammy," Dean said. "The money may not pan out, and dad's a big factor."

"You're still the best big brother ever," Sam said sincerely.

"You're such a girl," Dean said, as a way of deflecting.

"You're such a jerk," Sam countered.

"Bitch."

-------

That night, Dean made a list of ideas for the science fair. He didn't have a lot of funds, so he was pretty limited as to what he could do. He scratched most of the things off, and then his eyes landed on his old walkman. It didn't work anymore. Dean had thrown it against the wall of a hospital room after being told he was probably going to need surgery to repair his punctured lung.

He had been meaning to try and fix it, but he just never seemed to get around to it. He wondered if he could convert it into an EMF meter. He had learned a lot about them when they were staying at Caleb's one time. The young hunter had found Caleb's meter, and he'd wanted to know how it worked. His butt still stung from the memory of the one and only time John had ever spanked him. He'd totally dismantled Caleb's meter in his desire to know how it worked, despite repeated orders from his father to leave it alone. How was he supposed to know that Caleb had been from a multi-generational hunting family, and the thing had belonged to the elder hunter's great-grandfather? Dean still didn't understand why they'd been so mad when they had found out what he was up to. He had fixed it, hadn't he, and the damned thing had worked better than it had before.

Making up his mind, Dean decided to go the library to look up some information on EMF, to see if was possible to convert his walkman into one.

He didn't tell anyone what he was up to. His father would have been mad, and he didn't want Sam to know. He didn't think he had any shot at winning, so he decided that the school looking for his dad wasn't going to be an issue, but he had to try, for his brother.

He asked Sam if he wanted to go to the library with him, and Dean looked up some information on EMF to see if his idea was possible. He discovered that it was, and he was excited to get started on his project. He made short work of his homework when he got home, by not doing it, and spent all day Sunday working on his plans for the EMF.

By the time Monday rolled around, he couldn't wait for his physics class so that he could show his plans to Mr. Atley.

-----

_**One Month later**_

Dean was in the gym with the other science fair participants, nervously trying not to bite his nails. He had been on pins and needles for most of the month, jumping out of his skin each time the phone rang, but things seemed to be going well. No one had tried to call his father. John had actually been home during the last week, but Dean still couldn't relax because he hadn't told his father what he had been up to.

Sam had gone back into a huff, because he didn't want his father to find out about the school trip. For the first time that he could remember, Sam actually wanted his father to leave on a hunt.

Dean watched as Mr. Fraser, a biology teacher, walked up to the microphone to announce the winners. He had been thankful when he had found out that there was no big awards ceremony. No one questioned why he didn't have a parent there, and while he did feel a little wistful that his dad wasn't there, Dean was also relieved. He'd taken a big risk by doing this.

"I just want to say that all the participants have done an outstanding job, and that it was really tough to choose. After much consideration, in third place is Ms. Lynn Markly for her project on greenhouse gases. Second place is awarded to Ms Kirsty Potts for her project on Earth's oceans. Now for the winner. I must say it's not often the voting is unanimous, but this year we all agreed that first place goes to Dean Wilson for his project on electromagnetic frequencies. Congratulations Dean."

Dean sat in stunned silence. He had won! He quickly went up to the stage and collected his check. He grinned from ear to ear when Mr. Atley congratulated him personally.

It was worth it when he got home that night as well. His father was leaving for another hunt the next morning, and Sam's reaction had been worth it when Dean gave him the money for his trip.

For the next week, everything was fine. Things were normal at school, and Sam went and had a good time and returned from his trip without incident. Dean thought they were in the clear.

Then one day at school, Mr. Atley called Dean back after class again. At first, he didn't think too much of it. It was something that happened regularly.

"I just wanted to say congratulations again on your project, Dean."

"Thanks, sir," Dean said sincerely.

"I was wondering if you were going to enter the regionals?"

"The what?" Dean asked in surprised.

"It's the next step. The regional science fair. If you win there, you go to state, and then from there, it's on to the nationals. Your project has the potential to make it that far," Mr. Atley informed his student.

"I don't know," Dean said hesitantly. He was pleased that Mr. Atley thought that highly of his project, but could he be any more of a dumbass? This was precisely why he wasn't supposed to stand out.

"The winner at nationals gets a $100,000 scholarship," the teacher said, trying to entice him.

"I'm just a junior," Dean pointed out.

"It doesn't matter," Mr. Atley pointed out. "Competition's open to juniors and seniors."

"I don't... I…I don't think so," Dean replied.

"Dean, you're a smart kid. I don't get why you don't work to your full potential in all your classes. You may think I don't see it, but I do. You could be a straight A student if you just put a bit of effort in your other classes. Tell you what, have your father call me, and maybe the three of us can get together and disc..." Mr. Atley stopped abruptly. The face of the young man before him had just drained of all color, and he looked like he was about to faint. "Are you alright?" he asked in concern.

"F... ffiine," Dean stammered. "I'd better go. I have to pick up my brother." Dean bolted out of the classroom before his teacher could say anything else.

He spent the rest of the day berating himself for being such an idiot. Why had he thought Mr. Atley was any different from Mrs. Albright? He had thought Mr. Atley hadn't noticed anything but what Dean had wanted him to see. He couldn't let his family be broken up again. He just couldn't.

He even skipped school the next day. He knew that was another stupid thing to do, but he couldn't face his teacher. He spent the day pacing and calling himself every derogatory name he could think of, trying to figure out how he was going to get himself out of this one.

The school called twice that day. The first time was to find out where Dean was. He faked his father's voice and said he was sick, then his physics teacher called looking to speak to his father. Dean told him that his dad was at work. Mr. Atley said he hoped that Dean was feeling better soon, and requested that Dean have his father call him when he got home to arrange a meeting.

Dean's mind wasn't going far beyond the memories he had from when he was 11. The school was going to keep calling, and they'd eventually stop believing Dean's excuses. He wasn't going to let that happen again. That was when he came up with a solution. The competition was open to students. If Dean wasn't a student, he wasn't eligible.

His mind was firmly made up. His first stop the next morning was the guidance office.

"Is Ms. Amer in?" Dean asked the school secretary.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No," Dean admitted. "I was kind of hoping she was free. It will just take a moment."

"Hang on, let me check," she said.

Dean took a seat and it was short time later that he was told he could go into the office.

"Hello, Dean," Ms. Amer greeted him.

"Good morning, ma'am," Dean said politely.

"What's up? Is this about the science fair?"

"Um, yes, no, sorta," Dean said. "I'm not entering."

"You should."

"I heard the speech from Mr. Atley," Dean said. "I don't want to enter. I'm just here to tell you that I'm not coming back to school."

"You're dropping out?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yeah"

"Dean, please reconsider."

"No!" he said firmly.

"Without a high school education, you're seriously going to eliminate a lot of possible careers. You have the potential to do anything. What did your father say?"

"I'm 17. I don't need his permission. I checked it out. I just have to let you know. You can't change my mind." With that, Dean stood up and let himself out of the office.

Ms. Amer looked up Dean's file, got the number for his father, picked up the phone and dialled, leaving a voicemail for John to contact her immediately.

What Dean didn't know, because his father had never thought to tell him, was that John had an emergency cell phone that the school had the number to. John wasn't going to risk what had happened years before happening again.

-------

_**PRESENT**_

_**BBBRRRIINNG**_

The sound of the bell brought Dean out of his memories. He cursed himself that he hadn't gotten a chance to scan the room before the students arrived. He pulled out the papers Principal Maddock had given him earlier and tried to make himself look official.

The students eyed him curiously, but they didn't say much. They were all too busy talking about the upcoming class trip to the Land of Wonders, the local amusement park.

"Hey, everyone," Dean said firmly to get their attention as they all took their seats. "I'm Dean Newstead. I'm filling in for a couple of days."

"Another sub?" one of the girls asked.

"Looks like," Dean said. "I'm not sure where you're at in your text books, so I'll get you all to open up to chapter 1. We'll restart at the beginning," Dean said, remembering what the principal had told him. "Now, who can tell me the basic unit of physics? Um..." Dean paused and looked down at his seating chart. He looked up at the class, an amused smirk on his face. "So either your parents really wanted a girl, or you guys are trying to stump the sub by switching seats. Which one is it, _Annabelle_?" Dean asked and stared at the young man in the seat where Annabelle Richards was supposed to be sitting.

The class chuckled and the boy turned red. "If you really want to do that, I would suggest not making it so obvious. What's your name?" he asked the kid.

"Hayden Wells," the boy admitted.

"Okay, Hayden, can you tell me the most basic unit of physics?"

The boy just shrugged.

"You mean you're not going to make us switch back?" one girl asked.

"I don't know about you guys, but in school, I hated assigned seating. With the name Newstead, and a lot of my teachers seating up in alphabetical order, most times I ended up front row center. Let me tell you, it's hard to get away with anything there. So how about we make a deal. I'm going to send my chart around, and I want you to write your name in beside it."

"Why?" another girl asked.

"You know my name, don't you think it's fair that I know yours?" Dean answered as he handed the chart to the kid in the first row. "So what do you all know about physics?" Dean asked a few minutes later when he got the chart back. He was pleased to see that every one of the names were filled in.

"Just that it's really boring," one of the girls piped up.

Dean consulted his seating chart. "What make you say that, Connie?"

"What are we going to use it for? It's like algebra."

The class agreed.

Dean was getting desperate. He had no idea where to go from here. He looked at the clock and realized that there was still 38 minutes of this 45 minute class. His mind suddenly flashed on the conversation he'd heard when the students were filing in. "How many here are going on the class trip to the amusement park?" The entire class raised their hands. "How many roller coasters are there in the park?"

"14. They're opening a new one called The Beast. It's got a 200 foot drop," one of the students said excitedly.

"You like roller coasters, right... Luke?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, It's my mission to ride all the tallest and fastest ones," Luke admitted. "Do you like them Mr. Newstead?" he asked.

"Yeah," Dean lied. The truth was that he had never been on one. They reminded him too much of flying. He suppressed a shudder. "Did you know that without physics, there would be no roller coasters?"

"Seriously?" one of the kids asked.

Dean checked his chart. "Yeah, Aidan. You'll notice that they have no engines. They work entirely on kinetic energy. The first hill is the key. You'll notice that no other hill is taller than the first one."

"Why is that?" another kid asked.

Dean smiled. "The train is pulled up the first hill by a pulley. Then when it descends, potential, or stored energy, is converted into kinetic energy, or energy in motion. That's what propels it around the track. If the other hills were higher than the first one, it wouldn't have enough energy to get over that hill."

"I'm not sure I understand," one of the students admitted.

"Let me show you," Dean said, going to the blackboard and picking up the chalk.

-------

While Dean was teaching, John and Sam were at the library, seeing if their research could turn up anything that would help speed up the hunt.

"Wonder how Dean's getting along," Sam mused out loud.

"I'm sure he's doing fine," John said confidently.

"It's just hard to imagine Dean as a teacher," Sam said. "I'm not putting him down. It's just not something I could picture Dean doing," he added quickly when his father glared at him. "Although, he's great with kids. You should have seen him when we worked this job in Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. There was this kid, Lucas, and he hadn't spoken since he'd seen his father killed. By the time we left, Dean had the kid quoting 'Zeppelin Rules'."

"I've seen it," John replied. "We worked this job when you were in school. Ghost sightings at a kid's playground. A real easy job from our perspective. A death echo of a young boy who was killed there. Dean talked him into moving on. We didn't even have to salt and burn the body," John explained. John hated digging up the graves of kids. He had been really proud of Dean when his son had uncovered information that said you could talk or scare a death echo out of its loop. "Your brother also recognized a pattern of bruising on the boy from the ring of someone we had questioned at the school. An anonymous tip to the police and the guy was arrested."

"I didn't know that," Sam said. He wondered what else his brother had been up to during those 4 years. Dean wouldn't say much about it, and Sam latched onto any information he could get.

"Surprised the hell out of me too," John said.

"Dad, can I ask you something?" Sam asked tentatively. His dad was usually pretty tight with information.

"What Sammy?"

"Why did Dean drop out of school?" Sam asked bluntly.

John took a deep breath and Sam could tell he was debating just how much to tell him. There was a conversation that had taken place between him and Dean that John had promised never to tell Sam, and he was determined to keep his promise.

"Do you remember that field trip you took to Washington, DC when you were 13?" John finally asked.

Sam just stared at his father. How the hell had he known about that? He had thought that was his and Dean's secret.

"Don't look so shocked, Sammy. Dean confessed after I got the call from his guidance counsellor. Did you ever wonder where he got the money from?'

"Yeah," Sam admitted. "Dean told me to trust him, that it wasn't from hustling. I was just so excited about getting to go that I didn't question it."

"Do you also remember me telling you about a couple of times Dean stood out in school?" John asked.

"Yeah," Sam admitted. "His dropping out was related to the second time, wasn't it" Sam stated. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah. There was this teacher named Atley, I guess he was kind of an inspiration to your brother. Dean would come home and talk about him, tell me all about his classes. It was the first time I ever saw Dean excited about something regarding school."

"I remember that. Every word out of Dean's mouth was Mr. Atley this, or Mr. Atley that."

"Yup, started driving me crazy after a bit," John said with a grin. "Dean reassured me that he wasn't doing anything over the top. Don't start Sam," John added when he saw Sam's face start to darken.

"I won't," Sam promised. "It's just surprising that Dean would drop out just when he was starting to take an interest in school."

"It was more than that. Dean got the money for your trip by entering a school science fair. The winner got $250. He won."

"I didn't know that," Sam said. "What was his project on?" Sam asked curiously.

"He turned a walkman into an EMF detector," John said, his voice filled with pride. "That thing had worked better than any store bought one." He wondered if Sam had his own secret when he looked a bit guilty at John's words.

Sam was beginning to wonder if there was truly anything he really knew about his brother. "I still don't see why he dropped out of school."

"Well, as much as Dean took an interest in Mr. Atley, his teacher took a real interest in him. He saw the potential in your brother, a lot like his teacher did when Dean was 11. Mr. Atley wanted Dean to enter the regional science fair. He felt that Dean's project had a real shot at making it all the way to the national level. Dean said he didn't want to enter. Then..."

"Mr. Atley asked him to have you call him," Sam finished. "You were away on a hunt and Dean thought history was repeating itself?"

"He wasn't going to risk someone getting too nosy again," John confirmed.

"We moved a short time later, but why didn't he just go to the new school."

John shrugged and said he didn't know. The problem was that he did. It was the part he had promised that he would never tell. John was ashamed to say that he had broken a lot of promises to both his children over the years, but this was one he was determined to keep.

-----

_**Past**_

_**BEEP BEEP**_

John had been sitting in a bar, waiting for his hunting contact to show up. He heard his cell phone begin to beep, indicating that he had a voice message. It was his private number, one that only his boys' schools had access to. His felt his heart speed up over the fact that something might have happened to one of his sons. He immediately listened to his message.

"Mr. Wilson, this is Dawna Amer. I'm Dean's guidance counsellor. Can you please call my office and set up an appointment. It's really important that I talk to you as soon as possible."

John's mood immediately turned from concern to anger. Why the hell would Dean's guidance counsellor be calling? He had told that kid time and time again to be careful. He picked up the phone and dialled.

"Hello."

"Dawna Amer please," John requested.

"Speaking," the voice at the other end of the line confirmed.

"Ms. Amer, this is John Win... Wilson," he corrected himself just in time. "Dean's father."

"Oh, yes, thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I appreciate it."

"What's up?" John said. He didn't have time for a lenghty conversation. "Dean's okay, isn't he?"

"He's fine. Did you know he came to see me today? He wants to drop out."_**"HE WHAT?" John said in surprise.**__ I'm gonna kill that kid_.

"He said he's dropping out of school. I just wondered if anything was going on. I mean, his project was being considered for the regional science fair, and he's been doing well in his classes. It just seemed so unexpected, coming out of the blue like that. I'm guessing you didn't know," Ms Amer said, hoping she hadn't gotten the boy in trouble.

"No, don't worry. I'll talk to him and he'll be back in school shortly." _No son of his was dropping out. _

"I didn't mean to tattle, Mr. Wilson, it's just that I hate to see someone like Dean waste all that potential."

"No, you did the right thing. I'll take care of it," John said as he disconnected the line. His mind was going a mile a minute about all the words he was going to have with his eldest son.

This was one of the few times in John's life that he put being a father ahead of being a hunter. He called his contact and told him to get someone else to take care of the job and then he took off toward home.

Dean had been in the apartment all day, checking out the wanted ads, he figured he may as well get a job now, so he was more than shocked when his father had burst in through the front door.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Dean asked in surprise, all the while wishing he could just disappear. He was in for it now. The only thing he didn't know was how his father had found out so quickly.

John just crossed his arms, glaring at his child. "I could ask you the same thing," he said in a cold, hard tone.

"Um, the school closed down," Dean offered as a lame excuse.

"Ms. Amer called me, Dean. You want to explain this science project to me, or tell me why you just decided you were too good for school."

Dean swallowed nervously. "Not really," he said to his father.

"Talk, and that's an order," John said, sounding like a drill sergeant.

"Yes, sir," Dean said nervously. "I hate school. It's a stupid, boring waste of time."

"Let's try this one from the top. If I hear anything but the truth coming from your lips, it's going to be a very long time before you can sit comfortably again. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir," Dean repeated. He took a moment to try and compose himself and than began his explanation. "There was a science fair. I entered and won."

"Why did you do that?" John asked. "I thought I told you not to stand out."

"I didn't mean to," Dean insisted. "It's just that the first prize was $250 and I needed the money…" Dean stopped abruptly, realizing he had said too much.

"I left you and your brother plenty of money. What was it for?" John noticed that Dean had started to squirm, telling John that he didn't want to admit the real reason because he knew that his father wouldn't like it.

"What did you need the money for?" John asked in a tone that said he expected an answer.

"Sammy," Dean said softly.

"Is your brother okay?" John asked, his tone shifting from anger to concern.

"He's fine. It's just that the debate team he's part of... there was this big trip. Some geeky thing that was right up Sammy's alley. He wanted to go so badly, but it was expensive."

"You thought that you might get money for Sam's trip?" John said.

"I didn't think I'd win," Dean said, hoping to placate his father. "But I did. I let Sammy go. Don't be mad at him, dad, please," Dean begged. "I knew you wouldn't let him go, but he wanted to do it so badly and…" Dean said his tone starting to take on a bit of a frantic tone.

John took a step toward his son. He was just going to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him to calm down, but he was surprised when Dean flinched and stepped back. _My god, John thought, did Dean really think that his father was going to hit him_. He did his best to soften his look. "You knew what you did was wrong. For that, you deserve to be punished. No driving the Impala for one month."

"Yes, sir," Dean said contritely.

"Oh, and Dean, you're going back to school tomorrow."

"No!" Dean said flatly.

"This is not a negotiation, Dean Winchester," John said in a tone that left no room for argument. It was a tone that Dean usually obeyed. One that instantly commanded a respectful 'yes sir.'

"No," Dean said shaking his head. "I'm not going back."

"Look, I'm here, now, okay? What happened back then wasn't your fault. I'll call the school and say that I respect your decision with regard to the science fair, and that you don't have to enter if you don't want to."

"Please dad, don't make me," Dean said softly. He hated the begging tone his voice had taken on.

"Dean, what's going on?" John asked.

"I don't want to go back. What if it happens again? I don't want... I can't... Sammy's only 13, dad. They could take him. They could take him and what if this time... what if this time they don't give him..."

John listened as Dean's breathing got rougher with each word he spoke, and he knew that Dean was on the verge of a panic attack. He had had them when he was younger, but he hadn't suffered from one in years. He quickly closed the gap and wrapped Dean into the tightest bear hug he could. "It's okay, buddy," John said soothingly. "I got you. Come on, sit down for a minute."

John was surprised that Dean allowed himself to be led over to the couch. John sat next to him and pulled him close. He was pleased when Dean leaned into him, but what scared John more than anything he had ever seen, was when a lone tear escaped from Dean's right eye. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Dean cry.

"It's okay, son," John said in what he hoped was a comforting tone. "It's just you and me here. Now tell me what's going on with you. It's more than just this stuff with the science fair, isn't it?"

He felt Dean's slight nod. John remained silent, knowing the best way to get Dean to talk was not to ask him too.

"It's hard," Dean said after a while.

"What is?" John asked, a bit confused.

"Pretending all the time. When the teachers ask me why I failed my test, or didn't get a good grade on an assignment, and having to tell them I don't know the answer. You don't see the looks they give me. It's like they know I'm lying, or even worse, they give me that disappointed look. I had one teacher ask me point blank if I was stupid. I'm not, dad."

"I know that, Dean. Who was it?" John asked, hoping that he had kept the anger out of his tone. He wasn't mad at Dean. He was mad at that teacher, but mostly, he was mad at himself. He had never once considered the effect his request could have had on his eldest son.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Dean replied. "When Mr. Atley asked me about the science fair, it wasn't just for Sammy that I wanted to enter," Dean admitted. "I wanted to do it for him too."

"Mr. Atley?"

Dean nodded. "It was kind of nice," Dean said softly.

Before John could ask what was nice, Dean mumbled something into John's arm that he didn't quite catch. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Dean mumbled again. He hadn't meant for his thoughts to come out.

"Whatever you want to tell me, you can. You have my word, Dean, that no matter what it is, I won't judge or get mad," John promised.

"It was nice to be noticed," Dean admitted softly, which was ironic, since that was what he was trying not to do. "Dad, I didn't mean... I mean, I know you have to hunt and you save lives, and you need me to help out with Sammy, and Sammy has friends. I didn't mean that you igno…"

"Dean," John said, guilt threatening to eat them him alive. "It's okay, son." John squeezed him tighter. "Me and Sammy can get wrapped up in things. We never meant to make you feel..."

"You don't. Can we just drop this, dad, please?" Dean pleaded.

"Okay. Now, Dean, if you do want to enter this science fair, go ahead," John encouraged. "But I don't want you dropping out."

"I don't want to enter it and I don't want to go back. I don't want to do it anymore."

"Dean..."

"Dad, please don't make me do it anymore. What if it happens again? What if someone says something and they take Sammy?"

"Alright," John said giving in against his better judgement. Dean hardly ever asked for anything. John didn't like it, and he knew it was taking the coward's way out, but this was one thing he could do.

"You mean it?" Dean asked, almost as if he was afraid to believe it.

"Yeah, son. I don't like it, but if you don't want to go back, you don't have to."

"Thanks dad. Don't tell Sammy though. I don't want him to be ashamed of me," Dean requested.

"Alright," John reluctantly agreed once again. "I'll tell him I need you to get a job." Sam already saw him as the bad guy, what was more thing? "But you are going to get a job. No hanging around."

"I'm already ahead of you," Dean said holding up the newspaper.

"Dean, what was your project on?" John asked curiously.

Dean grinned, a true grin, and showed his father his homemade EMF detector.

-------

"Dad?" Sam prompted his father.

"What?" John said.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing special," John said wistfully. He really knew that he shouldn't have given in back then. It was something he had always regretted, but at the time, it had seemed like the right thing to do for Dean.

Sam knew his father wasn't going to say anything more. "Dean just called. We need to go pick him up." He knew there was no point in asking. If John didn't want to share, dynamite wouldn't get it out of him.

John and Sam got into the Impala and drove toward the school. Dean had left their names at the gate, so after showing ID, they were allowed to enter the grounds.

"Hey, Sammy," John said, tapping his youngest on the shoulder. "Any doubts you have about Dean's ability to be a teacher should be gone, but if you still need convincing, check that out," John said with a nod of his head.

Sam turned toward where his father had indicated. He could see Dean walking toward the parking lot. There was a group of about 7 students trailing behind him. They appeared to be hanging on every word Dean was saying.

He looked back toward his father. They both had the same thought. What might have been?

TBC

There should be one more chapter to wrap up the hunt, and more teacher!Dean coming up.

Please make my day and leave a review.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

A/N: A huge thank you goes out to Soar for betaing this story, and JuliaAurelia and Sinead-Conlan for all their feedback and encouragment. Thanks to all who read and/or reviewed.

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

Things were a bit tense that night at the hotel between all three Winchester men. Given what they had seen that afternoon, Sam wanted to know all about how Dean's teaching experience had gone, and John wanted to know about the hunt.

The problem was that Dean was not in a sharing and caring kind of mood. He was afraid of disappointing his father for not making any progress in finding out what object the spirit in the classroom was attached to. He didn't want Sam to ask him about what had happened in the class. He didn't know why, he just wanted to keep it to himself.

John and Sam did their best not to push, knowing the more they did this, the more Dean tended to clam up.

Finally, not being able to take it anymore, Dean said that he was going for a beer. He half-heartedly asked Sam if he wanted to come, but Sam instinctively knew that Dean would rather be alone, so he declined.

Grateful, Dean picked up the keys and left. Neither John nor Sam were surprised when Dean called and said that he wouldn't be home until late. Although not too late, John cautioned. It was a school night after all. Dean laughed and promised, grateful his Dad and Sammy weren't pushing.

The young hunter pulled into the parking lot later that evening and let himself in. He realized that Sammy, the little bitch, had stolen his bed. An evil grin suddenly spread across Dean's handsome features, and he pulled out the bag that he had liberated from his female companion. If Sammy wanted his beauty sleep, Dean had no problem with that.

------

The rays of the sun beat through the window of the motel early the next morning, leaving Sam waking up to the pleasant feeling. He stretched, yawned and glanced over to his sleeping father and brother.

He grinned when he realized that they were both asleep. The rules of the shower were hard and fast. Their father got the first one and it was first come, first served among the brothers. Being the youngest, Sam more often than not got stuck with the cold one.

He got out of bed and smacked his brother's foot as he walked by, telling him to get his lazy ass out of bed. His efforts were rewarded with a few mumbled words that would make a sailor blush, and a one finger salute.

Grinning, Sam went to the washroom. He opened his toiletry bag and grabbed his bottle of shampoo. He was just about to start the water when his hand froze. If Dean hadn't kicked him out of the bed last night, he was up to something. Sam took a big sniff of his shampoo bottle, and breathed a sigh of relief when it smelled okay. It was then that he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He got a full view of the pink lipstick, the beige blush on his cheeks and the blue eye shadow that adorned his eye lids. It looked like it had been applied by a four year old, or someone with a four year old's mentality.

Sam saw red. The only thing going through his mind was killing his older brother. He threw open the door and gave Dean a perfect shot for his camera phone.

"I"M GOING TO KILL YOU!" Sam promised, voicing his thoughts.

"Maybe I should email this to your college buddies," Dean joked.

"Give me that," Sam yelled and made a lunge for the phone. Dean, anticipating it, dodged easily. "Dad," Sam tattled, like he had done when he was younger.

"Dean, stop teasing your brother," John tried to reprimand him, but it carried no weight when John was trying not to burst out laughing at the appearance of his youngest son. He decided it was a losing battle, though, and gave in, and before Sam could stop him, John had his own picture.

"Dad," Sam protested and added in a huff. "Never mind. Just remember, Dean, you started this."

"Bring it," Dean challenged. He slipped past Sam and into the bathroom for the first shower of the day.

"I hate you," Sam called to his brother as the door shut in his face.

------

"See ya, Sammy," Dean said as he got out of the car for his second day on the job.

"You'd better be watching over your shoulder, and sleeping with one eye open," Sam warned in a grumpy tone as he drove off. Whatever type of makeup Dean had used hadn't washed off easily, there were still faint traces around his eyes and lips, and he really didn't want to be seen by anybody. His dad had promised to go to the drug store when he got back and get some cold cream. At least Sam had a way to occupy his time, thinking up ways to get revenge on his brother.

Dean watched Sam drive away. He knew he was in for it, but he smiled when he thought of the new wallpaper his cell phone held. It had so been worth it and it distracted him from his nervousness.

Yes, yesterday had gone well, but he had convinced himself that that it was a fluke, and the only thing he really wanted to do was find whatever it was that the spirit was attached to, salt it, burn it and drive off toward their next job.

He tried to keep himself from thinking too much as he made his way down towards his classroom. He had been invited to the teacher's lounge the day before, but he felt that he stuck out like a sore thumb already, and had turned down the invitation. Besides, he had to scan the classroom.

Pulling his EMF meter from his bag, he was all set to turn it on when he heard a commotion behind him.

"Hey, Mr. Newstead," he heard a voice call out to him.

Dean looked up and saw three kids from his 2nd period physics class.

"Good morning, Hayden, Connie, Luke," Dean returned the greeting. "What can I do for you?"

"Go ahead, ask him," Hayden said giving Luke a push.

"Why don't you?" Luke pushed back.

"Men," Connie huffed. "What these two geniuses want to ask is if we can try to build our own roller coaster. That stuff in class yesterday was really cool."

"Um," Dean said trying to stall. What the hell did he know about roller coasters? "I don't know guys, and gal," Dean added hastily. "I mean, engineers with college degrees spend years designing and building these things. I don't know how long I'm going to be here," Dean said honestly. He didn't want to start something he couldn't finish.

"You have a college degree," Hayden pointed out.

"Yeah," Dean mumbled. This is why he hadn't wanted to do this. Maybe now Sam would understand why this had been a bad idea from the start. He didn't have a college degree. "My degree was in education with a minor in physics, not engineering."

"Okay," Connie said, sounding a bit disappointed.

"Wait," Dean said calling to the kids' retreating backs. If there was one thing he hated, it was the look of disappointment on a kid's face. "Let me think about this, alright? See if I can work something out."

"Thanks, Mr. Newstead," Luke said excitedly.

------

_Great, just what the hell did you get yourself into?_ Dean yelled at himself. He was digging himself in deeper. It was tough enough just finding something to teach during class and now this. He really was an idiot.

_Okay, dumb ass, what are you going to do? _He set the EMF detector on his desk and picked up his bag. He had borrowed Sam's laptop to make him look official. Grateful that the school had a wireless connection, he booted up the computer and typed roller coaster design into a search engine. The first hit gave him a great idea.

Dean took a deep breath as he picked up his phone, suddenly wishing he hadn't played that joke on Sammy. He needed his help. Sam wouldn't deny him if it was for the hunt, would he? He wondered if he should have blocked his phone number. Sam had caller ID.

5 minutes later, after some serious grovelling, Sam had promised to come through for him. Part one of his plan was accomplished. He made a call to the principal and soon had the second part in place.

A warm feeling of accomplishment began to take the place of the nervousness Dean was feeling, and for the first time since this job began, he was actually looking forward to his first class of the day. He just hoped Sam got there in time.

------

_Five minutes, four minutes. Stop it, Dean. _

He had been sitting behind his desk. His class was due to start shortly and there was no sign of the office messenger. _Come on, Sam. I'll never play another joke on you again._

_**KNOCK KNOCK**_

_Thank God!_

Dean got up and opened the door and accepted the small package from the messenger just as his students began to arrive.

"Good morning, class," he greeted them enthusiastically.

"Morning, Mr. Newstead," the class answered.

"I thought we would do something a bit different today. I hope it will be both fun and educational for you."

"What's up, Mr. N?" a kid in the back of the class asked.

Dean grinned even wider at the nickname. "You'll see," Dean said mysteriously. "It's going to take me a few minutes to set it up. So, Charlie," he said to another kid in the back. Dean had noticed that he hadn't taken part in the discussion they'd had yesterday, and Dean wanted to try and draw him in. "I want you to start reading chapter 4, the one on G-Forces. Read the first section, then Darlene you take over, then Amy, and so on. When you get to the end, I should be done here. If you guys have any questions, feel free to interrupt me at any time.

Dean took note of Charlie's scowl, but he was glad when the boy began to read.

"That was great guys, any questions?" Dean asked why they reached the end of the chapter. _Please don't let there be any. _"No, okay." _Thank God._ "Now for the fun part." Dean walked over to the audio visual equipment that he had called the headmaster about. He needed a projector to hook his laptop up to. He flipped it on and watched the faces of his students light up as the game Roller Coaster Tycoon flashed across the screen.

"I had a few students ask me if I would help them design a roller coaster. While I'm not an expert, I thought it would be fun to try. This is going to be a team effort, though. I want input from the whole class on what type of coaster we build. Sky's the limits, literally. Now, though, I want you to really think about the design. I don't expect it to be perfect, but I want you guys to remember the stuff we read about G-Forces and what we talked about yesterday. Or would you rather we just read aloud from chapter 5?" He made a motion like he was going to turn the projector off.

"No," the class all said.

"Let's get started then. Luke, do you want to select the first part of the track?"

-----

Chad Maddock walked down the corridor of the science wing. He liked to keep a close eye on things when a new physics teacher started. He could see the courtyard from his office and he had seen a number of students following his new sub. Then this morning, Mr. Newstead had requested a projector from the A/V room. Chad had to admit that he was curious. Most of his subs just had the students do textbook work. Still, he wasn't quite prepared to find his students playing video games. That was a first.

-----

"As much as it would be cool to put a corkscrew in here, Alice, I don't..."

_**KNOCK KNOCK**_

"Could you guys excuse me," Dean asked as he got up from his desk.

"And girls," Connie called to him.

"Right, sorry," he said sincerely. He opened the door and swallowed nervously. He could see the principal gazing at the game on the screen. "Principal Maddock," he greeted the man. "Um..." he was suddenly at a loss for words. He knew what this must look like.

"Hey, Principal Maddock," Luke called out. He hoped that Mr. Newstead wasn't getting in trouble. This was the first time he had liked physics class. "Come see our coaster."

"Um, class, I need to speak to your teach..."

"Mr. Newstead, if we put the corkscrew in there, it will seriously lower the potential energy, and interfere with the ride," Alice said.

"Yeah, and a barrel roll would be too much G-Force, wouldn't it? The rider would be crushed," Hayden called out.

Whatever words Principal Maddock had been about to say died on his lips when he stepped fully into the classroom. The boards were filled with diagrams and equations. These kids were not only learning, but they were showing an interest. This could only look good when he had his conference call with the board of directors later this afternoon. He knew there was a reason he had liked this young man.

"Alright, maybe we should let Principal Maddock select the next piece of the track," Dean suggested.

"Yeah," another kid called. "What would you do?"

"Add a hill?" He raised his voice at the end to make his statement a question.

"Would that work, guys and girls?" Dean asked with a nod toward Connie.

"Sure," Connie said. "We just did a loop so our potential energy needs to be restored. Right, Mr. Newstead?"

"Right, now how big are we going to make the hill?"

_**BBBBRRRRRRIIINNGGG**_

"Okay everyone, that's it for today," Dean added. He was surprised that he was met with groans. It didn't look like any of the kids wanted to leave. "We'll pick this up tomorrow," Dean promised.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. N.," several of the kids called as they filed out the door, leaving Dean standing there with the head of the school. That feeling of being in the principal's office was coming back in full force.

"I'm sorry," Dean immediately apologized. This worked with his dad sometimes.

"Don't be," Chad said sincerely. "Although I have to admit this is a little unorthodox," he admitted.

"I thought that bringing up something practical would get their attention. I'm not sure how much I'm actually teaching them, though," Dean said and gave a self-deprecating shrug.

"I'm just glad that you caught their attention. Things are going a bit slow with the interviews. I haven't found the right candidate yet. Do you mind staying on for the rest of this week?"

_Hell no, these last two days were tough enough. I have a free period later today, I'm scanning the room and getting the hell out of here, _was what Dean was thinking, and to his complete and utter horror, when he opened his mouth, he heard himself say, "Sure. Thanks for having me."

"Great. Well I'll let you see to your next class."

Chad walked out the door, leaving Dean standing there wondering what in the hell had just happened.

------

Dean managed to get through the rest of the day. He never did have a chance to scan the room though, because during his last free period, despite his protests, he was dragged to the teacher's lounge. Several of the teachers wanted to know how he had gotten the students' attention so quickly.

Dean's grin lit up his whole face when Sam picked him up. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this good and he was dreading going back the motel. One thing that Dean had learned early on, was that good was often offset by the bad.

It started as soon as the brothers arrived back at the motel. John's first question for his elder son instantly destroyed Dean's good mood.

"How was the hunt?"

"I didn't find anything," Dean had to admit. He hadn't had a chance to scan the classroom. He had been too busy trying to help his students, and then he actually had other teachers asking him for advice. He still couldn't get over that one.

"There's nothing in the classroom?" John asked, a touch of disbelief coloring his tone.

"I didn't get a chance to scan it yet," Dean confessed.

"Why not, Dean? I understand that yesterday you were getting the hang of being back in a classroom. You could have at scanned the room today, though," John berated him.

It had been on the tip of Dean's tongue to tell him about inspiring the students, but a typical Dean Winchester answer was what came out of his lips. "There was this girl. She taught geography and…"

"Spare me the details, Dean," John said firmly. "You have to stop screwing around. Now tomorrow, I expect you to make some progress. I want to move on."

"It's good money, dad," Dean said trying to make a point. "I mean, I'm getting paid for each day I'm there and..."

"The money's good, but we need to finish this hunt. What if you get replaced and..."

"It won't happen. The principal asked me to stay until the end of the week. I have plenty of time," Dean defended himself.

"Don't screw around tomorrow, understand? I need to be able to count on you, or should I find a way to get Sam in?"

"No," Dean snapped. He didn't need Sam there. He could handle this. "Yes sir, I scan the room tomorrow," Dean ground out, hoping it sounded respectful. He knew it wasn't his dad's fault. It was his, as usual. He should have scanned the classroom already. He suddenly felt like he needed to get out there, he didn't even offer an excuse, he just grabbed his keys and said he would be back later.

No sooner had Dean walked out the door, than Sam turned on his father. "You're such a hypocrite."

"Excuse me?" John said. Did Sam really want to pick a fight now?

"I Said You're A Hypocrite!" Sam said slowly, as if he were talking to a five year old. "Why do you have to put him down every God damn time?"

"I didn't..." John started to protest.

Sam didn't let him continue. "You spent the last few days telling me I'm getting on Dean's case for no reason, and here you are doing the same thing."

"Samuel, listen..."

"No, you listen. If Dean didn't scan that classroom, it was for a damn good reason. I guarantee that getting a girl's phone number was not one of them. You saw it yourself yesterday."

"If he was busy with the students, why didn't he just say so?" John ground out.

"Hello!" Sam snapped. "Have you met your son? When does he ever admit to stuff like that?"

"He..."

"No, dad. You need to take your own advice. Don't listen to Dean's words. You know what? I need to get out of here."

Sam grabbed John's keys and slammed the hotel room door on his way out, leaving John alone with his thoughts.

------

Dean spotted the liquor store and turned in. He wished he could get totally, stinking drunk, but he did have school the next day. Still, he needed something to calm his nerves. He got out of the car, walked up to the door, and just as he was about to reach for the handle, he heard a voice.

"Hey, mister, I'll give you $20 if you buy me some beer."

Dean turned and found himself staring at Charlie Matthews, the kid from his 2nd period physics class. He was the student Dean had been concerned about. There was something about the boy that reminded Dean so much of himself when he had been Charlie's age.

"You sure about that?" Dean asked his student.

"Mr. N... um, I mean…" Charlie stammered. "I was just testing you," he added hastily.

"Nice try," Dean said, indicating he wasn't buying Charlie's story for a minute. "Sit," he said firmly and pointed to a bench that was located by the side of the store.

Knowing he was busted, Charlie complied. "What?" he huffed.

"Why are you buying beer? Isn't tonight a school night?''

"I could ask you the same thing?" Charlie shot back.

_Yes, this kid was definitely just like him, Dean thought._ "I like a beer in the evenings," Dean said honestly. "You should be drinking root beer."

Charlie shrugged and remained silent. Kid was damn stubborn. Dean didn't mind, he had plenty of practice. John Winchester's picture was in the dictionary next to the word.

"Charlie," Dean prompted, firm, but soft. It looked like something was really bugging this kid. "Does this have anything to do with why you didn't turn your homework in today?"

"Practice," Charlie explained. "We have a big game against McKinley High. We have to win or we'll be out of the running for home field advantage in the play-offs. McKinley's the only team that beat us this year."

That was something Dean could understand. "You still shouldn't neglect your homework. Good way to get in trouble," Dean said with a wink.

"I don't," Charlie huffed. "I know all the answers to your stupid questions. Can I go now?" Charlie stood without waiting for answer.

"Charlie, wait," Dean requested. He hoped he could find the right words. "High school's tough. I know that."

"It's just that everyone's expecting me to lead the team to victory. I don't want to let anyone down, like I did the last time."

"How many games do you play a year?" Dean asked.

"Eight."

"So far, you're 6-1. That's pretty good I'd say."

"McKinley's 7-0. We lost the championship to them last year. The team's counting on me."

"I know about expectations," Dean replied honestly. "It's just..."

"I don't even like football," Charlie suddenly confessed, surprising Dean. That had been the last thing he had been expecting. "I find the stuff you're teaching really interesting, but..." he trailed off

"I guess coming across as smart doesn't look cool to the other players, but Charlie..." Dean stopped. How did he tell this young man that hiding his intelligence was not a good thing? He felt like a big hypocrite. He had done the same thing, for the same reasons. He had people counting on him.

"It's not just that," Charlie clarified. "I mean my dad, he wanted to play in the NFL, but he wasn't good enough, so he put all his hopes on me. I work out with the team after school and then my father after dinner. Sometimes, there's no time for homework. I tried to tell my dad this, but he doesn't listen."

"You should..."

"Talk to my dad, right? That's what everyone tells me. You going to tell me the same thing?" he said bitterly.

It was Dean's turn to surprise his student. "No, if your dad's like mine, he wouldn't listen anyway. I know about wanting to live up to expectations. My dad expected a lot from me and sometimes, it was hard to meet those expectations. I bet you're smart enough to do both. You just have to stop pretending you're not. It just makes things tougher."

"But no matter what I do, it's never good enough," Charlie said sadly, staring at his hands. "I need to throw longer, run faster, play harder. Right now, I just want to drop out of school. My dad will probably throw me out of the house, but I can get a job and my own place and do whatever the hell I want."

"Charlie, you don't want to do that," Dean cautioned.

"Yeah, I do."

"No, you don't. It may sound like it will solve all your problems, but trust me, it won't."

"Yeah, easy for you to say," Charlie snapped back bitterly.

"I can say, because I did drop out, and it didn't solve anything. It's something I've always regretted doing."

Charlie stared at his teacher in surprise. "But, you're a teacher. Don't you have to go to college for that?"

"Yeah," Dean replied. "I was 17. I won't bore you with details." _Please don't ask, Dean pleaded to himself. "_It was a tough time. I was trying to get by in school, I had responsibility for taking care of my brother when my dad was at work, and I thought it would make my life easier if I dropped out and got a job. It didn't. It was tough to find a job, even pumping gas they asked for a diploma. That was about 10 years ago. Then I decided to get my GED. It was a long process of night school, community college and college, but I did it," Dean lied, hoping he sounded credible. Going to college was a complete lie. "I just graduated last year. I can't tell you what to do, but really consider this."

"I want to go to college," Charlie admitted. "I just don't want to concentrate on football. I love history and I think it would be cool to be an archaeologist."

"If that's what you want, son, go for it. Don't let anyone stop you from going for it. You may not like football, but you can use it to get a scholarship. College isn't cheap. Just don't close any of your doors. You may not be able to open them later. Now get out of here. I never saw you," Dean said gesturing toward the exit of the parking lot.

"No problem, Mr. N. I'll really think about what you said." Charlie got up and walked away. He stopped suddenly and looked back over his shoulder. "Hey, Mr. N, I wish you were going to be our permanent teacher."

"Thanks, Charlie. I'll see you in class tomorrow."

He watched to make sure Charlie really did leave, then he turned toward his car. He was no longer in the mood for beer. He wanted pie, and lots of it. Before he could take another step, he saw that his brother had been standing by the entrance to the store, listening to every word he had said.

"How long you been there?" Dean asked.

"Long enough," Sam said. "Dean, what you said to that kid, I think you really helped him."

"It was no big deal," Dean said trying to shrug off Sam's praise.

"It was to him," Sam insisted. "Can I ask you something?"

"No," Dean said with a sigh. "But you're going to anyway, so what is it?"

"Have you ever thought about it?" Sam asked hoping Dean didn't take offence to what he was about to ask.

"About what?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Getting your GED. There's plenty of online courses you can do while we're on the road."

"Sam, no," Dean said firmly.

"I know you can do it."

"I know I can too. I just can't do it again," Dean said uncomfortably.

"You don't have to pretend..." Sam started thinking Dean was talking about hiding his intelligence.

"I know, but I really can't Sam. Just let it go okay."

"Fine," Sam said, but he had no intention of doing so, he just knew he wouldn't get anything out of Dean, so he let the matter drop. "Come on, let's get pie. I'll follow you," Sam said heading for the truck.

"Now you're talking," Dean replied.

Sam climbed into John's truck and followed Dean out of the parking lot. He made a mental note to call Jefferson when Dean left for school the next morning. The man could find dirt on Mother Theresa.

------

Dean entered his classroom. He was a little nervous, but for an entirely different reason. He really needed to get this hunt over and done with.

He closed the door to prevent someone from walking in on him unexpectedly, and pulled his EMF meter out of his bag. He quickly scanned the room, hoping something would set it off, but the machine remained silent. He scanned it again to make sure he hadn't missed anything. _Great, just great. If he had to scan the whole school..._

Biting back a cry of frustration, Dean sat down at his desk. He jumped when the EMF suddenly cut into the silence. Dean cursed himself. He hadn't thought to scan the desk because he had figured that there was no way it could be the same one from the '60's. The meter squealed the longest, and the loudest, when Dean pointed it at the bottom, right hand drawer.

He opened it and pulled out a grade book, some folders, and some old papers. There was nothing that seemed like something a spirit would attach itself to. He tapped the bottom of the drawer a few times, just to see if was hollow. It wasn't. He pointed the EMF at it again, and sure enough, it went off. Dean pulled the drawer right out, and got down on his hands and knees to peer at the space underneath. Way in the back, he could make out a crumpled piece of paper. He grabbed some salt out of his bag, one couldn't be too careful, after all. He tentatively grabbed the paper and pulled it toward him.

He found himself staring at a crumpled, stained piece of paper that was yellowed with age. It had University of Texas across the top, declaring that Archie Chambers had graduated with a degree in education.

Archie Chambers had been the man that had lost his career because of a false accusation. Strangely, Dean found himself sympathizing with the man. He'd suffered the same thing. A shape shifter had stolen his identity and framed him for murder.

Dean had made a joke about it, wishing he could see his own funeral, but it still hurt knowing he would never be Dean Winchester again. That was lost, the same way Archie Chambers had his life destroyed.

That surprised the young hunter. If someone had told him that he'd be feeling sorry for a ghost, he would have said they were crazy. Dean shook himself out of his thoughts. No matter what, this guy had still hurt people who didn't deserve to be hurt.

He picked up his lighter and took the old certificate over to the sink, and poured salt on it. It didn't take long for the fire to engulf the paper.

It was strange. Dean didn't think he'd ever had an easier hunt. He was just glad it was over. He was even more shocked when he found himself thinking about stalling his father. He wanted to finish out the week here. The money would really help them.

_**KNOCK KNOCK **_

Glancing at the clock, Dean realized it was time for his first class of the day. He grinned and went to go open the door.

"Hey, Mr. N.," Charlie greeted him. "What's that?" he asked pointing to the EMF in Dean's hand.

"Good morning, class," Dean returned the greeting. He realized that his nervousness was gone. An idea popped into his head. He held up his EMF meter. "This is today's lesson."

-----

Sam hadn't wasted anytime either. No sooner had Dean left for the school, than he was on the phone. He explained his suspicions to Jefferson and asked him to see if he could confirm it. Jefferson promised to look into it and get back to him.

He knew it would make Dean mad. If there was anything his older brother hated, it was when people invaded his privacy. He had no rational explanation as to why he wanted to find out what Dean was hiding so badly. He wondered if it was part of his strong desire to know more about what his brother had been up to when Sam was at school.

That night went great. Dean came home in a very positive mood. He told them he had solved the case, and John had said that they didn't have to leave, so Dean could finish the week out at the school. His smile had been worth it.

The next night wasn't so hot. Jefferson had come through for Sam and said he would fax him the proof. Sam called the motel office and got permission to receive a fax, and gave Jefferson the number. Sam hadn't planned to tell Dean or their father what he'd found out. After all, if Dean hadn't said anything, he really didn't want anyone else to know.

Getting sick and tired of taking cold showers, Sam had decided to take one in the evening. Then he'd go pick up the fax. The problem was that John had gone to the office to tell him they were staying another couple of nights, and the motel manager had asked him to give the envelope to Sam.

John wondered what it was, the hunt was taken care of, after all. Not being one to respect anyone's privacy but his own, he opened the package.

"Dean!" he called to his eldest when he arrived back at the room.

Dean looked up from the table, where he had been researching stuff for tomorrow's lesson. "What?" he asked tentatively. His dad looked mad.

"Want to explain this to me?" he asked. It wasn't a question.

Dean took the piece of paper his father had handed him and found himself staring at his GED. _How the hell had he found out?_ He'd gotten it during an extended stay at Bobby's. The senior mechanic was the only person that knew, and he had promised Dean he would never tell. Bobby would never betray his confidence like that.

"Never mind, do you want to tell me when you went back to school?"

"I didn't, it, um, it's fake," Dean stammered, hoping his father would buy it. Of course, there was no way he would.

"Okay, let me rephrase. Why do you need a fake GED?"

"For hunts," Dean said hoping his father would accept that excuse.

"Nice try," John said, seeing through Dean's lie. "If you needed a diploma for hunts, why wouldn't you get a high school diploma, or a college degree for that matter?"

"Hey, dad, have you seen my…" Sam asked coming out of the bathroom. He stopped when he stepped into the room and sensed the tension between the two men.

"Did you know anything about Dean getting his GED?" John asked.

"Sam?" Dean questioned in disbelief when he saw the guilty look on Sam's face.

"I was the only one supposed to see that. Why did you open it? It was mine."

John had no response, so he took the road he always did. "I'm your father..."

"No way!" Sam cut him off. "You had no right…"

"Neither did you!" Dean interrupted him. "You did the same thing, Sam," Dean reminded him.

Dean had him there. "I was just curious."

"It was my business. If I wanted you to know, I would have told you."

"Son," John said gently. He didn't want Dean getting worked up. Things had been going so well for him lately. "Why did you think you had to hide this?"

Dean shrugged. "Look, it was no big deal, okay?" Dean said ignoring John's question. "I got it when I was at Bobby's that time," Dean said giving his father a pointed look.

John knew what Dean was talking about. It was something he wanted to forget.

Sam watched the silent conversation going back and forth between his brother and his father. Whatever had happened, it was major. "What happened? It takes months to get a GED."

"Look, if will get you two off my back, Bobby told me I was driving him crazy and suggested it," Dean said tiredly. He really didn't want to talk about this, because it would lead to a huge fight between his brother and father.

"Why were you at Bobby's? Where was dad?"

Sammy was worse than a dog with a bone. "You were at Stanford, there was this hunt. I got injured and stayed at Bobby's until I recovered," Dean said giving the short version. There was no way he was elaborating.

"What happened?" Sam repeated himself. "Where were you, dad?" he said, his tone accusatory.

John couldn't suppress the shudder the suddenly ripped though his body. He didn't like thinking about that time any more than Dean did.

His son wasn't lying when he had said he got injured on a hunt. The problem was that it wasn't anything supernatural. It was tied to a mistake John had made when he first started the hunt. By the time he had figured out his mistake, Dean had gone missing. By the time John had found him, Dean had barely been alive. The doctors weren't even sure if he would make it through the night.

John had thought long and hard about calling Sam. He actually had the phone in his had, Sam's number punched in just before he could push the button to connect the call, the doctor had come looking for him to tell him that Dean had turned a corner.

John never wanted his younger son to hear the full details of that hunt. Sam would never forgive him if he knew just how close they had come to losing Dean, or how serious his injuries were, and for not telling him. No matter what had happened between all of them, John knew with absolute certainty that Sam would have dropped everything to get to his brother's side.

"Dad?" Sam prompted at his family's silence. He knew something big had gone down. He also knew that he'd never get the information out of Bobby, especially if Dean had sworn him to secrecy.

"Dad got a lead on the thing that killed mom," Dean said softly.

"You left your injured son to go hunt?" Sam asked in disbelief, his anger growing. If Dean had been injured badly enough to have to stay at Bobby's long enough to get his GED, it had to have been serious.

"Sam, don't okay," Dean begged. "Don't start. It wasn't dad's fault. I told him to go, okay? He didn't want to."

"But, Dean, he always does this. I mean he made you drop out of school, and he left…"

"Sam," Dean interrupted. "Dad didn't make me drop out, you know that. It was my decision. Dad tried to convince me to go back, but I didn't want to. It was something I've regretted since the day I did it. Bobby suggested getting my GED, and I did it because I wanted to. It was something that was entirely for me. It was something I needed to do. It had nothing to do with either of you," he exploded. "Don't fight."

Sam and John eyed each other, as if each was daring the other to say something, to give them an excuse to start. "I'm going to go get dinner," Sam said eventually and he grabbed the car keys and stalked off out of the room. This was his fault. He shouldn't have pried into Dean's past.

"I'm sorry, son," John apologized. He felt guilty for ruining Dean's good mood.

"Can we just let it drop?" Dean said squirming uncomfortably.

"Okay," John agreed gratefully. He wasn't good at these types of things. "There's just one thing I need you to understand."

"What?" Dean asked warily.

"This is a big accomplishment, Dean," John said indicating the GED. "I hated asking you to not do your best. If you're wondering why I never asked Sammy to do that, it was because with him, there was always someone there to answer the phone. For that, son, I am so damn proud of you." With that, even knowing Dean would protest, John wrapped him in the biggest bear hug he could.

-----

Dean felt a little melancholy when he reported to work for his last day. He had to admit that he had enjoyed himself. In the end, he was glad they had taken this hunt. Not because he'd destroyed the spirit, though he was grateful no one else would get hurt. What made this hunt worth it was Charlie Matthews.

After the end of his class with his favourite students, while Dean had said goodbye to the students, Charlie had hung back. He had said that he wasn't going to drop out, and had decided to follow Dean's advice. He started to put an effort into his studies. He participated in class more. Dean had heard the other teachers talking in the teacher's lounge. It gave him a strong feeling of pride that he had been able to help the kid.

His classes that day flew by, and before Dean knew it, he was getting ready to leave. He didn't expect the summons to the principal's office. He guessed that Principal Maddock just wanted to tell him that he had found a replacement.

-----

"Have a seat," Chad greeted Dean as he stepped into his office.

"Thanks," Dean replied as he took the proffered chair.

"How was class?'

"It went fine."

"Charles Matthews came to see me today. He wants to enter the upcoming science fair."

A wide grin broke out on Dean's face. "He has potential."

"I agree. I was worried about him. I heard rumors that he was thinking about dropping out. Do you have any idea why he changed his mind? Don't look so surprised," Chad added at the surprised look that registered on Dean's face. "I've seen it all. Word gets around. Do you know why he may have changed his mind?"

"No clue," Dean said and hoped his tone came across as him really having no clue.

"I'm sure," Principal Maddock said in the same tone as Dean. Dean found it to be sarcastic, so he just shrugged his shoulders. He had a feeling the principal knew exactly what had caused Charlie to change him his mind, or rather who had caused him to change his mind. "I guess you're wondering why I called you here?"

"I'm guessing you hired a new teacher."

"Not yet, but I have it narrowed down to two candidates."

"I'm sure they'll do a good job," Dean replied.

"I know for a fact one of them will," Principal Maddock said in a pointed tone. "I want to give you first crack at the job."

That statement managed to do something not much else could. It rendered Dean speechless. "Me?" he finally managed to squeak out a few minutes later.

"Yeah," the principal confirmed. "Several other of your students came to see me as well, and asked me to keep you on permanently."

"But I... I don't think... I'm just a sub." Brilliant _dumb ass, you certainly showed him just how articulate you are. _

"All teachers start out as subs."

"But I can't…"

"Are you worried about what happened to the other teachers?" the principal said misinterpreting Dean's reaction.

"No," he said firmly. "I don't scare easily. It's just... I'm not sure. I don't have a lot of experience and..." he trailed off.

"Dean, I've been in education for over 30 years. In that time, I've seen many teachers come and go. I was extremely sceptical when I passed by your class room and found you playing video games…"

"That…" Dean started to explain himself. He stopped when the principal held up his hand.

"Let me finish. It's a little unorthodox, but it certainly captured their attention. Those kids have learned more about physics in the last 5 days with you, than in the first four months of the school year. Some people are just natural born teachers. They have the gift, and you, Dean, have that gift in spades. Those kids respond to you in a way I've never seen before, and I think you'd be a valuable asset to our teaching staff."

Dean sat there dumbfounded. He couldn't quite believe that the principal was talking about him. They thought he made a good teacher, but the hunt, his mother, Sammy, his dad. They were a family. His dad wouldn't like him staying here. His dad needed him. "I appreciate it, Principal Maddock, but right now, I have commitments to my family that I can't give up. We'll probably be moving soon, and I was offered a sub job. I didn't think I had a chance here and I already accepted it." _Please buy that excuse, please buy that excuse. _

As a high school principal, Chad Maddock had a good bull crap detector, and he suspected there was much more going on. "I understand," he replied much to Dean's relief. "It's our loss, but another school's gain. I wish you luck."

"Thanks," Dean replied. "I really enjoyed my time here."

Dean quickly said goodbye and headed out the door.

Chad watched him leave. He wished he could find the words to make the young man stay. Instead, he picked up the phone to call the other candidate and let her know she had the job. Chad told her that they had taken care of the problem they'd been having, and that she shouldn't have any trouble. He had no proof, except for a strong gut instinct, that the young man who had just left his office has somehow lifted the curse.

He shook his head. Maybe it was time to start thinking about retirement. He really was going crazy.

------

"Son, is everything okay?" John inquired later that evening. They had been packing for their next hunt. John had gotten word of demonic activity in Salvation, Iowa and they were headed out. They had a good cash supply for once, thanks to Dean. Dean had been quieter than normal, though. "Did something happen at school today?"

"No, dad, everything's fine," Dean insisted. "I guess I'm just going to miss the kids."

"I'm sure they'll be fine."

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Come on. We'd better get going." He grabbed his duffel and walked out of the room.

"Did he say anything to you, Sammy?" John asked a bit worriedly. Dean had seemed kind of down.

"No," Sam said honestly. "I think he..." Sam stopped. He was wondering if this experience had affected his brother more than he would admit. No, Dean was a hunter. He'd never give it up. "I think it's like he said, he'll miss the kids."

"You're probably right," John reluctantly agreed and then followed Sam out the door

----

They hadn't been driving for too long when the school came into sight. Sam looked toward his brother. Dean's face bore an expression that Sam couldn't read. "Are you sure you're all right, Dean?" Sam couldn't resist asking. He knew that something had happened that afternoon that his brother wasn't telling him about. He knew there would be no point in asking, but Sam wanted to make sure Dean was okay.

Dean, who had been staring at the school, tore his gaze away and looked at his brother.

He thought about the GED certificate that Dean had seen Sam tuck away in his bag. Dean had hid his intelligence for so long that he didn't know how to stop doing it sometimes. He let people think he didn't know what was going on around him. It made them underestimate him. It had been an advantage on several hunts.

In a way, he was glad that Sam knew about his GED. A part of him had always wanted to tell Sam, to make his brother not be ashamed of him for being a high school drop out, but never wanted Sammy to know about the circumstances behind it. Now Sammy knew the truth. He could stop pretending.

He realized that a small part of him, for a few seconds, had really considered taking the job. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he looked at his brother sitting next to him, and glanced at his father's truck in front of him. Things were still a little strained between his father and brother, but at least they weren't sniping at each other. His dad and his brother weren't perfect, neither was he, but they were a family, and when he was with his family, he knew in his heart that he was right where he belonged.

He turned toward his brother with a genuine smile, the kind that could light up a room, and one that Dean gave so rarely. Sam returned it when Dean said sincerely, "Yeah, Sammy. I'm fine. Everything's perfect."

The End.

Please read and review.

A/N: Thanks to everyone that read, reviewed and stuck with me, especially with the long wait between updates. I know the hunt was a little lame, but it was only thing I could think of. I also need to thank Pandora Jazz who gave me the idea about Dean getting his GED.


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